A Quote by Paul F. Tompkins

I love a small dinner party - let's say six people, max, were everybody's having the same conversation. That's my favorite thing in the world. — © Paul F. Tompkins
I love a small dinner party - let's say six people, max, were everybody's having the same conversation. That's my favorite thing in the world.
I like being around people who are good conversationalists. When there's a give and take, and you are heightening an idea, exploring it together, that is my favorite thing in the world. I love a small dinner party - let's say six people, max, where everybody's having the same conversation. That's my favorite thing in the world.
People love having a home. People love going to their house and sleeping in their bedroom and having a conversation around the dinner table. You don't particularly think of that conversation as a private conversation; you just think of it as something that happened in your home.
There is a small group of 'Never Trump' conservatives. But it is a small group, and I've actually been surprised that there are not more of us. There's enough of us for a dinner party, not a political party. I wish there were more.
It's like they say in the Internet world — if you're doing the same thing today you were doing six months ago, you're doing the wrong thing. Parents can learn a lot from that.
One of my goals is that, at a dinner party some time in the future, someone will say, 'Oh, my nephew is starting a ready-to-wear brand', and 20 people will turn around and say, 'Is he? Can we invest?' in the same way that, now, if you were to say, 'My nephew is starting a mobile app,' everyone would say, 'Oh, smashing! Can I invest?'
My favorite random email I got was from some guy who wrote: "Mr. Max, with the hope of a six year old on the night before Christmas asking about Santa, I ask the same question: Do you really exist?
I love to have a dinner party. I love to have people over. I like the feeling it creates in my home - having guests laughing and telling their stories - and I put a lot of thought into it. I plan my menu kind of depending on whatever mood I'm in.
When I was nine or 10, I remember having a dinner party at my mum and dad's house. I wanted to have a Thanksgiving dinner because I'd watched so many films that had Thanksgiving in it and I thought: 'Why do we not celebrate this?' So I cooked this big Thanksgiving dinner for probably 10 people and I wouldn't let anybody help me.
In terms of the first Christmas when I met everybody, I went over to Nick's grandfather's house where they were having the big Christmas dinner, and they have this tradition of this thing called oyster stew.
One thing about the fantasy dinner party idea that no one considers is whether these people are going to get on. I would say John McEnroe and Ian McEwan, but what would they have to say to each other?
The perfect party for me is having six to 12 people for dinner Friday or Saturday - good, fun friends, a lot of artists. I have a beautiful deck that looks over the canyon and Los Angeles on one side, so it's very pretty at night. It's a great opportunity to catch up with friends.
I got married three days after graduation, and the first thing I did what I was expected to do which was to work on a small newspaper. So we were in Chicago where my husband worked for the Chicago Sun-Times and we were having dinner with his editor and he said 'So what are you 'gonna do honey?' and I said 'I'm going to work on a newspaper', and he said 'I don't think so", because Newspaper Guild regulations said that I couldn't work on the same newspaper as my husband.
Everybody in the world wants the same thing...to be needed...a job that he/she can do well...to love somebody...Everybody...There's no mystery.
One thing that was amazing about World War II was that everybody signed up for the duration plus six months. Fliers got to leave combat after 25 missions, or 35 missions, but other than that, you were in it. You were part of the great effort, until, oh boy, six months after it was over.
You know when you tell a self-deprecating story at a dinner party, everyone's laughing along with you? But then when someone else repeats that same story at another dinner party you feel they're all laughing at you?
You know, I had a new kind of thought on Black Lives Matter and the All Lives Matter thing. And the best way to explain it is if we're all sitting around at a table having dinner, and everybody gets pie except for you and you say, my pie matters, I don't have pie, and everybody at the table looks at you and says, I know, all pie matters, it shows that the people at the table aren't really listening.
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