Quotes & Sayings About Grand Central

I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue than spend one more minute with you. — Al Yankovic

We were scarecrows in blue uniforms. After a grand total of five days of blackboard instruction and fifty rounds at the NYPD firing range, my new police academy classmates and I were standing out on the sidewalks of central Brooklyn pretending to be police officers. They gave us badges. They gave us handcuffs. They gave us guns - standard police-issue Smith & Wesson .38 Specials. They told us, "Good luck." In early July 1966, riots had broken out in East New York, Bedford-Stuyvesant, and Brownsville, Brooklyn. Hundreds of angry young men were roaming the streets and throwing bottles and rocks. Already they had injured police officers and attempted to flip over a radio car. On one corner, police found eighteen Molotov cocktails. The borough commander was calling for reinforcements - and fast. — Ray Kelly

I will be thirty years old again in thirty seconds. I will take the best room in the Grand Central or the Orndorff Hotel. I will dine on oysters and palomitas and wash them down with white wine. Then I will go to the Acme or Keating's or the Big Gold Bar and sit down and draw my cards and fill an inside straight and win myself a thousand dollars. Then I will go to the Red Light or the Monte Carlo and dance the floor afire. Then I will go to a parlor house and have them top up a bathtub with French champagne and I will strip and dive into it with a bare-assed blonde and a redhead and an octoroon and the four of us will get completely presoginated and laugh and let long bubbly farts at hell and baptize each other in the name of the Trick, the Prick, and the Piper-Heidsick. — Glendon Swarthout

Their bedroom has always been our sanctuary. Sometimes at night we'll end up on their bed just talking. My dad will be snoring and Mia will say, "Turn around, Bobby, you're snoring," and he'll turn around and for a moment it'll be silent. Then he'll erupt into a massive snore and Luca and I will kill ourselves laughing and my dad will wake up and bark, "Get to bed!" and not even a second later he'll be snoring and we'll kill ourselves laughing again and Mia will say, "What is this? Grand Central Station? — Melina Marchetta

Wow. This makes grand central look like a bus stop in Buttfuck Nebraska. — Stephen King

[T]ruly grand and powerful theories [ ... ] do not and cannot rest upon single observations. Evolution is an inference from thousands of independent sources, the only conceptual structure that can make unified sense of all this disparate information. The failure of a particular claim usually records a local error, not the bankruptcy of a central theory. [ ... ] If I mistakenly identify your father's brother as your own dad, you don't become genealogically rootless and created de novo . You still have a father; we just haven't located him properly. — Stephen Jay Gould

The first grand federalist design ... was that of the Bible, most particularly the Hebrew Scriptures or Old Testament ... Biblical thought is federal (from the Latin foedus, covenant) from first to last
from God's covenant with Noah establishing the biblical equivalent of what philosophers were later to term Natural Law to the Jews' reaffirmation of the Sinai covenant under the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah, thereby adopting the Torah as the constitution of their second commonwealth. The covenant motif is central to the biblical world view, the basis of all relationships, the mechanism for defining and allocating authority, and the foundation of the biblical political teaching. — Daniel J. Elazar

A song without a hook is like a train without rails. It skitters all over the place, bangs into everything. Boom! Crash! There goes Grand Central Station. Crushed by a train. — David Lee Roth

I guess we'd better move the trash. We can start with the Dumpster." He pointed at it, looking distinctly unenthusiastic.
"You'd rather face a ravening horde of demons, wouldn't you?" Clary said.
"At least they wouldn't be crawling with maggots. Well," he added thoughtfully, "not most of them, anyway. There was this one demon, once, that I tracked down to the sewers under Grand Central - "
"Don't." Clary raised a warning hand. "I'm not really in the mood right now."
"That's got to be the first time a girl's ever said that to me," Jace mused.
"Stick with me and it won't be the last."
The corner of Jace's mouth twitched. "This is hardly the time for idle banter. We have garbage to haul. — Cassandra Clare

Pull yourself together, Detective. You're embarrassing yourself, and more imprtant, you're embarrassing me."
"They're going to do it outside. In public."
"So the fuck what?"
"Public," Peabody said, head still between her knees.
"You're being honored by this department and this city for having the integrity, the courage, and the skill to take out a blight on this department and this city. Dirty, murdering, greedy, treacherous cops are sitting in cages right now because you had that integrity, courage, and skill. I don't care if they do this damn thing in Grand Central, you will get on your feet. You will not puke, pass out, cry like a baby, or squeal like a girl. That's a goddamn order."
"I had more of a 'Relax, Peabody, this is a proud moment' sort of speech in mind," McNab murmured to Roarke.
Roarke shook his head, grinned. "Did you now? You've a bit to learn yet, haven't you? — J.D. Robb

My dad, Bob Blum, used to dash across Grand Central's main terminal catwalk several times daily as a young CBS correspondent, running copy from newsroom to studio and back - because CBS' first broadcasts were from Grand Central Terminal. The pictures on people's television sets used to shake when the trains came in! — Jenna Blum

He said his name was Kobi Chen-Tulsi. He said, "Tell Threnody Noon that the Prells are going to attack Grand Central." - The Crystal Horizon — Philip Reeve

But no, he had to smell as good as he tasted, earthy and natural, like sex in the woods. He'd make a fantastic air freshener for some guy's man cave.
Ione, Larissa (2014-12-16). Revenant (Demonica) (p. 71). Grand Central Publishing. Kindle Edition. — Larissa Ione

little-known fact, though not unacknowledged by my scientist's eye, is that the ceiling of Grand Central is actually backward. It is a mirror image of the night sky; lore holds that the artist was working from a medieval manuscript that showed the heavens not from within but from without - not mankind's view but God's. I — Justin Cronin

Jace: "I guess we better move the trash. We can start with the Dumpster," looking unenthusiastic.
Clary: "You'd rather face a ravening horde of demons, wouldn't you?"
Jace: "At least they wouldn't be crawling with maggots. Well, not most of them, anyway. There was this one demon, once, that I tracked down to the sewers under Grand Central
"
Clary: "Don't. I'm not really in the mood right now."
Jace: "That's got to be the first time a girl's ever said that to me."
Clary: "Stick with me and it won't be the last. — Cassandra Clare

I know they call me low-cortical and all, but even so, I got this one corner of my brain that's like Grand Central Station. Stuff that other people can't figure out comes easy to me. — Neal Shusterman

Chase pointed at the tellers behind the glass. "First, you keep your hands in plain view. If you hit any alarm button, silent or otherwise, everyone out here is dead. — Grand Central Publishing

Grand Central really didn't want me doing anything under my own name but the 'Kitty' novels. — Carrie Vaughn

That split second I thought about the days when my mom used to work at the Grand Central Terminal candy shop. — Rick Riordan

There's no way that can be the river," Rhiow said.
"Rhi, the ceiling of Grand Central
" Saash said.
"It's backward," Rhiow snapped, "thank you very much, I know all about it."
"Is it?" Saash said. "Which direction are you coming at it from?"
Rhiow closed her mouth and thought about that. — Diane Duane

All I know is that it was very bad when I was twenty-eight. Everything that was said to me I seemed to have heard before, and I could no longer listen. I could no longer sit in little bars near Grand Central and listen to someone complaining of his wife's inability to cope with the help while he missed another train to Connecticut. I no longer had any interest in hearing about the advances other people had received from their publishers, about plays which were having second-act trouble in Philadelphia, or about people I would like very much if only I would come out and meet them. I had already met them, always. — Joan Didion

There's something so soothing about the hum of Grand Central Station. — Rachel Nichols

Today I arrived by train in New York City, which I'd never seen before, walked through the grandeur of Grand Central Terminal, stepped outside, got my first look at the city and instantly fell in love with it. Silently, inside myself, I yelled: I should have been born here! — Edward Robb Ellis

I'm a novelist, editor, short story writer. I also teach, and I freelance sometimes as an arts consultant. Most of my books have been published by Warner Books, now known as Grand Central Books. — Nalo Hopkinson

I watch children a great deal; their idea is that rules are always negotiable, whereas you absolutely cannot joke at the airport about your toothpaste, and you cannot rollerblade in Grand Central Station. I keep running up against these things. — Natalie Jeremijenko

MAN: You said pound cake. WOMAN: I didn't say pound cake, I said crumb cake. MAN: You said pound cake. WOMAN: Don't tell me what I said. MAN: You said pound cake. WOMAN: I said crumb cake. MAN: I actually saw the crumb cake but I didn't get it because you said pound cake. WOMAN: I said crumb cake. MAN: Well, I heard pound cake. WOMAN: Then you obviously weren't listening. Crumb cake doesn't even sound like pound cake. MAN: Well, maybe you accidentally said pound cake. Woman: I said crumb cake. - overheard in Grand Central Station, November 13, 2008 — Kathryn Schulz

It was some kind of cosmic switching device, routing the traffic of the stars through unimaginable dimensions of space and time. He was passing through a Grand Central Station of the galaxy. — Arthur C. Clarke

Chapter 1 Selden paused in surprise. In the afternoon rush of the Grand Central Station his eyes had been refreshed — Edith Wharton

The Thwaites lived on Central Park West in the upper Eighties, in a building that, while manifestly grand, particularly to someone from Ohio, was by no means the most elegant among its neighbors. Its lobby, for one thing, was little more than a wide corridor, with two drably upholstered wing chairs propped against a wall and, between them, a glass table upon which rested an elaborate but unaesthetic arrangement of silk flowers. The light in the corridor was greenish, dim and lavatorial, barely illuminating the shallowly carved figures that marched, in pseudo-Egyptian fashion, along the pink stone tiles as far as the elevator. The floor, incongruously, was of a black and white parquet, upon which all but the softest slippers echoed ominously. And the elevator itself - paneled, with brass fixtures and a single tiny red velvet stool, presumably for its operator's comfort - seemed again of a different, though no less ancient, era. — Claire Messud

A modern hospital is like Grand Central Station - all noise and hubbub, and is filled with smoking physicians, nurses, orderlies, patients and visitors. Soft drinks are sold on each floor and everybody guzzles these popular poisons. The stench of chemicals offends the nose, while tranquillizers substitute for quietness. — Herbert M. Shelton