A Quote by Quentin Crisp

If you live in America, you don't have to work. You can just drift along in the smiling and nodding racket. — © Quentin Crisp
If you live in America, you don't have to work. You can just drift along in the smiling and nodding racket.
Life is a racket. Writing is a racket. Sincerity is a racket. Everything's a racket.
Where I came from, just nodding and smiling when someone expressed views was the ultimate insult. If people weren't yelling about politics in our house then they were arguing about music, or movies, or food.
I had one good racket, a Wilson Javelin. It was my favorite racket, and I made the mistake of putting it next to the heater. It just got so hot that it melted.
Some people drift along like a cork on a river, feeling that they cannot do anything except drift, moment to moment. This is an attitude of mind. Everyone can be constructive even in tiny ways.
A fellow must know where he wants to go, if he is going to get anywhere. It is so easy just to drift along. Some people go through school as if they thought they were doing their families a favor. On a job, they work along in a humdrum way, interested only in their salary check. They don't have a goal. When anyone crosses them up, they take their marbles and walk out. The people who go places and do things make the most of every situation. They are ready for the next thing that comes along on the road to their goal. They know what they want and are willing to go an extra mile.
I simply seem to drift. But I sort of allow the drift, because it has a kind of check - it forces me to work harder at what I'm interested in.
War is just a racket. A racket is best described, I believe, as something that is not what it seems to the majority of people. Only a small inside group knows what it is about. It is conducted for the benefit of the very few at the expense of the masses.
Because I live and work in Washington, D.C., I have a ringside seat at the world capital of The Persuasive Arts, or, as I like to call it, The Opinions Racket.
I honestly just live in Trippie Redd's world. I don't live in America... I ain't finna live anywhere else but America.
I drift along, thinking about the past a great deal. The past is so reliable, so delightful, and the best place to live. I end up there quite often, you know; it's very comfortable and dependable.
Ideas may drift into other minds, but they do not drift my way. I have to go and fetch them. I know no work manual or mental to equal the appalling heart-breaking anguish of fetching an idea from nowhere.
Look, I'm smiling at you, I'm smiling in you, I'm smiling through you. How can I be dead if I breathe in every quiver of your hand?
When I'm smiling, I'm supposedly not taking the game seriously. When I'm not smiling, then it's like, "He don't care. He's just out there."
It takes a lot of energy to be negative. You have to work at it. But smiling is painless. I'd rather spend my energy smiling.
If anything, you just let your racket talk - there's no reason for you to talk if your racket can.
All the arts in America are a gigantic racket run by unscrupulous men for unhealthy women.
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