A Quote by Raymond Chandler

And the commercials would have sickened a goat raised on barbed wire and broken beer bottles. — © Raymond Chandler
And the commercials would have sickened a goat raised on barbed wire and broken beer bottles.
If the story's there for it, if there's a reason for it, then I'm all for it. But if you throw in a barbed wire match just to do a barbed wire match, then it makes no sense to me.
You don't want the United States to become South America, where you have a super collection of rich people at the tippy-top of society, they are surrounded by barbed wire living in McMansions with security guards, and the rest of the society is suffering, and you've got a broken educational system and a broken government.
Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates. Broken dishes, broken parts, streets are filled with broken hearts.
Growing up, road trips with Dad were something I hated. Sitting still for hours, singing that stupid song, "100 bottles of beer on the wall. 100 bottles of beer..." Dad, you know, keeping up with the song.
Czech beer in bottles is the corpse of real beer in a glass coffin.
I have always wanted to open up a brewery slash goat farm. Brew some beer, make some goat cheese, but that's kinda dreamy.
Those who take refuge behind theological barbed wire fences, quite often wish they could have more freedom of thought, but fear the change to the great ocean of truth as they would a cold bath.
Beer commercials usually show big men, manly men, doing manly things: "You've just killed a small animal. It's time for a light beer." Why not have a realistic beer commercial, with a realistic thing about beer, where someone goes, "It's 5:00 in the morning. You've just pissed on a dumpster. It's Miller time."
I found that a couple of bottles of beer would give me a lift, but the third bottle would sober me up.
Young players will run through a barbed wire fence for you.
True Love Isn't Hearts & Flowers. It's Blood & Guts & Bouquets Of Barbed Wire
I'd rather hug Magic Johnson after he rolled around in barbed wire.
Yes, I remember the barbed wire and the guard towers and the machine guns, but they became part of my normal landscape. What would be abnormal in normal times became my normality in camp.
It's easier to floss with barbed wire than admit you like someone in middle school.
I've been to Villawood Detention Centre in Sydney and it's all barbed wire, it's like a big jail.
I don't want to be a negative piece of barbed wire sitting up in the booth with all the answers. I think that's a turn-off.
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