He Could Sell Quotes & Sayings

So long as millions of human beings in every country has to sell their labour-power to a small minority of owners, and to sink into the most wretched misery if they could find no buyers, the so called "equality before the law" remains a pious fraud, since the laws are made by those who find themselves in possession of the social wealth. But in the same way there can also be no talk of a "right over one's own person," for that right ends when one is compelled to submit to the economic dictation of another if he does not want to starve. — Rudolf Rocker

Man, he could sell. As he liked to say, he lived at the intersection of technology and liberal arts. But there was a more personal side of Steve Jobs, of course, and I was fortunate enough to see a bit of it because I spent hours in conversation with him over the 14 years he ran Apple. — Walt Mossberg

With a kind of wry envy, Hazel realized that Bigwig was actually looking forward to meeting the Efrafan assault. He knew he could fight and he meant to show it. He was not thinking of anything else. The hopelessness of their chances had no important place in his thoughts. Even the sound of the digging, clearer already, only set him thinking of the best way to sell his life as dearly as he could. — Richard Adams

Then there was a hard brown lozenge called the Tonsil Tickler. The Tonsil Tickler tasted and smelled very strongly of chloroform. We had not the slightest doubt that these things were saturated in the dreaded anaesthetic which, as Thwaites had many times pointed out to us, could put you to sleep for hours at a stretch. "If my father has to saw off somebody's leg," he said, "he pours chloroform on to a pad and the person sniffs it and goes to sleep and my father saws his leg off without him even feeling it."
"But why do they put it into sweets and sell them to us?" we asked him. You might think a question like this would have baffled Thwaites. But Thwaites was never baffled.
"My father says Tonsil Ticklers were invented for dangerous prisoners in jail," he said. "They give them one with each meal and the chloroform makes them sleepy and stops them rioting."
"Yes," we said, "but why sell them to children?"
"It's a plot," Thwaites said. "A grown-up plot to keep us quiet. — Roald Dahl

Daughter, he said in a voice like old wood breaking, can you ever forgive me?
I could only answer his question with one of my own. Putting my hand over his mouth, I whispered, Which of us would not sell all we had to stay alive? — Emma Donoghue

Understand. But that had been closer to the truth than he'd realized. She was beyond price. Something a man could sell all of his possessions for and never hope to buy. — Maisey Yates

And the HE stands up. if frenchy's could bottle him up and sell him as porn, they'd probably own half of chicago within a year. he's what would happen after nine months if abercrombie fucked fitch. he's like a movie star, an olympic swimmer, and america's next top male model all at once. he's wearing a silver shirt and pink pants. everything about him sparkles.
not my type at all. but ... — David Levithan

I don't want to collect anything for myself right now. I really have to watch myself, especially around plants. Even now, just being here, I still get that collector feeling. You know what I mean. I'll see something and then suddenly I get that feeling. It's like I can't just have something - I have to have it and learn about it and grow it and sell it and master it and have a million of it. " He shook his head and scuffed up some gravel. "You know, I'll see something, just anything, and I can't help but thinking to myself, Well, Jesus Christ, now that's interesting! Jesus, I'll bet you could find a lot of those. — Susan Orlean

Oh, what love! Christ would not intrust our redemption to angels, to millions of angels; but he would come himself, and in person suffer; he would not give a low and a base price for us clay. He would buy us with a great ransom, so as he might over-buy us, and none could over-bid him in his market for souls. If there had been millions of more believers, and many heavens, without any new bargain his blood should have bought them all, and all these many heavens should have smelled one rose of life; Christ should have been one and the same tree of life in them all. Oh, we under-bid, and undervalue that Prince of love, who did overvalue us; we will not sell all we have to buy him; he sold all he had, and himself too, to buy us. — Samuel Rutherford

I swear he could probably sell beef to a vegetarian. Charm and quiet confidence come so naturally to him, and he continually says all the right things that put my fears at ease. — J.R. Barton

Hell and furies!" Eleanor had begun to pace, her skirts swirling about her ankles. "What was he thinking?"
"When does he ever think?" Richard straddled a chair and accepted a wine cup from Raoul. "If he were to sell his brain, he could claim it had never been used. — Sharon Kay Penman

Whatever shred of hope he'd had for a future with her was gone. She still felt something for him, she'd admitted, but she would never trust him. She would always hate him for what he'd done.
But he could do this for her. Even if he never saw her again, even if she abandoned her duties as King's Champion and stayed with the Fae in Wendlyn forever-as long as he knew that she was safe, that no one could hurt her ... He'd sell his soul again and again for that. — Sarah J. Maas

Here, in their midst, George feels a sort of vertigo. Oh God, what will become of them all? What chance have they? Ought I to yell out to them, right now, here, that it's hopeless? But George knows he can't do that. Because, absurdly, inadequately, in spite of himself, almost, he is a representative of the hope. And the hope is not false. No. It's just that George is like a man trying to sell a real diamond for a nickel, on the street. The diamond is protected from all but the tiniest few, because the great hurrying majority can never stop to dare to believe that it could conceivably be real. — Christopher Isherwood

He did not mention that his skill was as a carver. He had never sold pounamu. He would not sell pounamu. For one could not put a price upon a treasure, just as one could not purchase mana, and one could not make a bargain with a god. Gold was not a treasure - this Tauwhare knew. Gold was like all capital in that it had no memory: its drift was always onward, away from the past. — Eleanor Catton

My dad was a ham, too. He could sell those women anything. Of all his sons, I was the only one he could trust to sell as well as he could. I was proud of that. — Paul Lynde

The artist doesn't really think about consequences - he or she does the work, stands back and looks at and thinks, 'Hmm, that could have worked better like this.' But as a person who needs to sell tickets to do the next work, one needs to analyze how it does or does not hit its mark. — Twyla Tharp

He could sell snow to an Eskimo.
--Overheard in a Real Estate Office — Bob Eckstein

Mr. Winterborne," Pandora asked, her blue eyes lively with interest, "where do these board games come from? Who invents them?"
"Anyone who designs one could contract a printer to make some copies."
"What if Cassandra and I make one?" she asked. "Could we sell it at your store?"
"I don't want to make a game," Cassandra protested. "I only want to play them."
Pandora ignored her, focusing intently on Rhys.
"Come up with a prototype," he told her, "and I'll take a look at it. If I think I can sell it, I'll be your backer and pay for the first printing. In return for a percentage of your profits, of course."
"What is the usual percentage?" Pandora asked. "Whatever it is, I'll give you half."
Raising one brow, Rhys asked, "Why only half?"
"Don't I deserve the in-law discount?" Pandora asked ingenuously.
Rhys laughed, looking so boyish that Helen felt her heart quicken. "Aye, that you do. — Lisa Kleypas

The Client," said the Dean. "The Client. Think of that above all. He's the one to live in the house you build. Your only purpose is to serve him. You must aspire to give the proper artistic expression to his wishes. Isn't that all one can say on the subject?" "Well, I could say that I must aspire to build for my client the most comfortable, the most logical, the most beautiful house that can be built. I could say that I must try to sell him the best I have and also teach him to know the best. I could say it, but I won't. Because I don't intend to build in order to serve or help anyone. I don't intend to build in order to have clients. I intend to have clients in order to build. — Anonymous

St Helens denied early reports that the deals had been manufactured because they refused to sell Higham to rivals Wigan, stressing that the Warriors did not make an offer for the player. Micky Higham requested a move so that he could further his own career, ... We received an offer from Bradford for Micky, which we felt we had to consider. We were then faced with the reality that we could either accede to his request, and receive a very good fee for him, or retain him for the final year of his contract and then let him leave for nothing. — Sean Maguire

I found this in the same box where the sketches were," she added, putting it in his outstretched palm.
"My father gave it to me when I was a boy," he said in an offhand voice. His long fingers closed around it, and he slipped it into his pocket.
"I think it may be very valuable," Elizabeth said, imagining the sorts of improvements he could make to his home and lands if he chose to sell the ring.
"As a matter of fact," Ian drawled blandly, "it's completely worthless. — Judith McNaught

McReynolds emphatically shook his head. "No way. Legal's all over that deal. It's squeaky clean. Even the woman signed off. Trammel. I could make her a three-hundred-pound whore who likes black dick in the movie and she couldn't do a thing about it. That deal is perfect." "Yeah, well, what Legal's missed is the part about neither one of them having the rights to the story to sell you in the first place. Those rights happen to reside here with me. Trammel signed them over to me before Dahl came along and took second position. He thought he could move up one by stealing the original contracts out of my files. Only that's not going to work. I've got a witness to the theft and Dahl's fingerprints. He's going to go down on fraud and theft charges and your choice here is to decide whether you want to go down — Michael Connelly

Could dump two Chinee down in one of our maria and they would get rich selling rocks to each other while raising twelve kids. Then a Hindu would sell retail stuff he got from them wholesale
below cost at a fat profit. We got along. — Robert A. Heinlein

J.P. Morgan once had a friend who was so worried about his stock holdings that he could not sleep at night. The friend asked, 'What should I do about my stocks?' Morgan replied, 'Sell down to your sleeping point' Every investor must decide the trade-off he or she is willing to make between eating well and sleeping well. High investment rewards can only be achieved at the cost of substantial risk-taking. So what is your sleeping point? Finding the answer to this question is one of the most important investment steps you must take. — Burton Malkiel

My uncle was the first brown person to have a market stall on Petticoat Lane in the 1960s. He worked his way up from the street. He was homeless, but eventually he got a car so he could sell from the boot. And by the 1980s, he was a millionaire wholesaling to companies like Topshop. So in a way, fashion put me in England. — M.I.A.

The man who could go to Africa and rob her of her children, and then sell them into interminable bondage, with no other motive than that which is furnished by dollars and cents, is so much worse than the most depraved murderer that he can never receive pardon at my hand. — Abraham Lincoln

She had found a jewel down inside herself and she had wanted to walk where people could see her and gleam it around. But she had been set in the market-place to sell. Been set for still bait. When God had made The Man, he made him out of stuff that sung all the time and glittered all over. Then after that some angels got jealous and chopped him into millions of pieces, but still he glittered and hummed. So they beat him down to nothing but sparks but each little spark had a shine and a song. So they covered each one over with mud. And the lonesomeness in the sparks made them hunt for one another, but the mud is deaf and dumb. Like all the other tumbling mud-balls, Janie had tried to show her shine. — Zora Neale Hurston

She put a hand on his hip and turned him to her. "But things could go wrong, so i want to tell you something while it's just the two of us, Eddie. I want to tell you how much I love you." She spoke simply, with no drama.
I know you do," he said, "but I'll be damned if I know why."
Because you made me feel whole," she said. "When I was younger, I used to vacillate between thinking love was this great and glorious mystery and thinking it was just something a bunch of Hollywood move producers made up to sell more tickets in the Depression, when Dish Night kind of played out."
Eddie laughed.
Now I think that all of us are born with a hole in our hearts, and we go around looking for the person who can fill it. You ... Eddie, you fill me up. — Stephen King

I never thought of acting as a creative process. Christ, I used to go to the movies and see Brando talking like he was trying to sell shoes, and he was great. I thought anybody could do it. Then I tried it, and I got so uptight, I'm limited as to what I can do on film. — Kris Kristofferson

Reporters are not scientific. They do not follow scientific methods. They write to sell, not to educate. The scientist is not concerned with what sells. He is concerned with the truth. He undertakes years of painstaking study to arrive at an understanding of intricate natural processes that most people could never presume to comprehend . You would do well to listen to science and ignore the nonsense that is printed in the newspapers. Because I can tell you right now - radium has nothing to do with what's ailing you. — D.W. Gregory

He caressed the side of her jaw with his fingertips, sending a light shiver down her spine. "I should warn you that if we lose the paper, we'll have to sell the house."
"That's fine."
"And the furniture."
"I don't care."
"And - "
"We can pawn, sell, and trade off everything we own ... but if you dare say one thing about my diamond, you'll regret it for the rest of your married life. This ring is mine, and it's not leaving my finger."
He grinned at her vehemence. "I wasn't going to say anything about your ring, honey." Bending down to kiss her, he left wet handprints on the waist and bodice of her gown, but Lucy was too enthralled by his hearty kiss to protest.
"You taste like coffee," she whispered when his lips left hers.
"I could do with more."
"Coffee or kisses?"
"Always more kisses ... — Lisa Kleypas

If you're ever short on cash, you could set up a booth and charge the ladies to massage your bod."
"Oh yeah?" His voice was wary.
"Sure. Say, fifteen bucks for a two minute fondle. Strictly PG-13, above the waist, of course. I'll sell the tickets, if you give me a cut."
His hands stopped moving. She babbled on, dazed and thoughtless. "The gay guys would go for it, too. We'd rake in the dough."
"I'd let you do it for free," he said.
His voice was devoid of irony. Her eyes popped open in alarm.
She looked back over her shoulder. The hot glow in his eyes brought her feminine instincts to high alert. She pulled away.
She and her big dumb mouth. Sexy banter with a guy she barely knew, but no nerve to back it up. — Shannon McKenna

is how he printed up all of this fake money and threw it into a crowd. People thought it was real and tried to spend it in shops, and they were so angry when they found out it was fake. But now, those bills sell for a fortune on eBay. It's simultaneously real and not real, you know? Worthless as currency, but not as art . . . my brother asked for one of those bills for Christmas a few years ago, and my mom assumed he wanted it framed, and he said he'd just stick it in his wallet because it was one of the few works of art you could carry in your pocket. — Robyn Schneider

These deep thinkers were the only people he could not stand to be around for long, these people who'd never manufactured anything or seen anything manufactured, who did not know what things were made of or how a company worked, who, aside from a house or a car, had never sold anything and didn't know how to sell anything, who'd never hired a worker, fired a worker, trained a worker, been fleeced by a worker - people who knew nothing of the intricacies or the risks of building a business or running a factory but who nonetheless imagined that they knew everything worth knowing. — Philip Roth

Think of what big governments have gotten up to in this century : not one, but two world wars, the gulag, the holocaust, aerial bombing of civilian population centers, the Berlin Wall, nuclear explosions, the post office. A wicked individual might want these, but he wouldn't have the cash and connections to get them. A villainous corporation could afford them but has to market the products. The Vietnam draft would be a tough sell for even the most fiendish businessmen. "Get shot! Get killed! Get diseases from foreign women who despise you in their hearts!" — P. J. O'Rourke

St John from the book of The Revelation
"He also forced everyone, small and great, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on his right hand or on his forehead, so that no one could buy or sell unless he had the mark. — Joseph M. Chiron

How he could sell the very stuff that took his momma from him? Did he realize that he was taking somebody else's momma from them? Did — Angie Thomas

Dost thou renounce Satan, and all his Angels, and all his works, and all his services, and all his pride?" ...
The first act of the Christian life is a renunciation, a challenge. No one can be Christ's until he has, first, faced evil, and then become ready to fight it. How far is this spirit from the way in which we often proclaim, or to use a more modern term, "sell" Christianity today! ... How could we then speak of "fight" when the very set-up of our churches must, by definition, convey the idea of softness, comfort, peace? ... One does not see very well where and how "fight" would fit into the weekly bulletin of a suburban parish, among all kings of counseling sessions, bake sales, and "young adult" get-togethers ...
"Dost thou unite thyself unto Christ? — Alexander Schmemann

Needless to say, Lot kept his faith to himself. He told no one of his family background, for fear of them discovering his religion. He never told anyone who he really was. He also saw that the society that touted itself as the "Cities of Love" was actually quite inhospitable to strangers and visitors. Traveling merchants who came to sell their wares in the cities were usually beat up and run out of town, because they were considered greedy. In reality, it was because their prices were so cheap. But the local workers maintained a greedy control over the marketplace. The city took so much of the workers' income, they barely had enough to live on. So, they did not want anyone else to have what they could not. — Brian Godawa

Whoever came to see Rebbe Shmelke with outstretched palms left bearing a gift. one day, when he had not a single piece of change, he gave a beggar a ring he saw lying on the table. It belonged to his wife, who, when she heard the story, complained loudly: "How could you, didn't you know this was a valuable ring, a diamond ring?"
Whereupon Shmelke ran out of the house in pursuit of the beggar, shouting: "Friend, listen, that ring is valuable! Don't let the jeweler cheat you! You mustn't sell it too cheap! — Elie Wiesel

You could sell ashes to the devil, couldn't you?"
"Maybe," he said lightly. "But why would I want to? — Sierra Donovan

Watching him watching his hands, I figured I could ask him to build me a model of the Sistine Chapel with miniature true to life detailing then a shed we could display it in, advertise it and sell tickets and he would have said, Works for me. — Kristen Ashley

Outward, thanks to the knowledge of physical laws, man could subdue (or subjugate ... ) nature, but inwardly, he remained a slave to it. For, when all is said and done, at what is aiming all this display (or deployment) of activity, if not to realized outward profits, to provide material pleasure (or enjoyment). It is not the first time that men sell their birth right for a dish of lentils, and thus disown (or repudiate or deny) the best of thmeselves. — African Spir

Matheus pondered which deity he'd annoyed in a previous life. Maybe if he figured out which sacrifices he'd skipped, he could make amends. Did they sell goats at the farmer's market? Matheus wrinkled his nose. He didn't want to leave the city, not to mention the issue of travelling with a goat. People frowned on sticking farm animals in the trunk. What if he got a rack of lamp and chanted over that? Sheep were kind of like goats. — Amy Fecteau

When does he ever think?" Richard straddled a chair and accepted a wind cup from Raoul. "If he were to sell his brain, he could claim it had never been used.", Chapter 7 — Sharon Kay Penman

Finn wanted to collect the plants he knew he could sell, and he was teaching Maia. He climbed to the top of the leaf canopy and came back with clusters of yellow fruits which could be boiled up to treat skin diseases. He found a tree whose leaves were made into an infusion to help people with kidney complaints and brought back a silvery fern to rub on aching muscles. Most of these plants had Indian names, but as they sorted their specimens and put them to be dried and stored in labeled cotton bags, Maia learned quickly.
"You'd be amazed how much money people give for these in the towns," said Finn.
But not everything he collected was for sale. He restocked his own medicine chest also. And every day he bullied Maia about taking her quinine pills.
"Only idiots get malaria in the dry season," he said. — Eva Ibbotson

The parent who could see his boy as he really is, would shake his head and say: 'Willie is no good; I'll sell him. — Stephen Leacock

Do you sell anything that can answer a yes or no question?" I asked him.
"For entertainment purposes," he asked me not bothering to look up, "or for real?"
I squelched the impulse to scream, "What do you think, you jackass?" Maybe he was asking a serious question- though I had my doubts. "You're the one with the metaphysical shop. If I wanted a magic Eight Ball, I'd go to SaverPlus."
He looked up at me and grinned. "Did you notice the new guy who works at the return counter in the SaverPlus basement?He's kind of a creep- which I think I like about him- and he's got this monster bulge in his pants."
I could totally see him getting into someone who was a creep. "Um. No."
"They're still open. Why don't you go buy a Magic Eight Ball so I can return it?"
"No."
"Then what the fuck good are you? — Jordan Castillo Price

Apparently some rustlers had been swiping red-horned wildebeest from farms in the San Fedora area and transporting them off-world to other colonies where they would sell them. And these were known repeat offenders. He could make a packet if he got the whole bunch of them the same time. The pickings were kind of slim in Atro City lately and he could use the money. He didn't like feeling like a leech around Cindy-Mei. — Christina Engela

They all wanted me to sell you out."
There was silence on the line. They both knew that Vlad knew too much about Roman's business dealings - both legal and illegal. He could have made a fucking fortune on selling Roman out.
"Why haven't you?" Roman said, sounding unconcerned, as if he hadn't doubted for a moment that Vlad wouldn't do it.
Vlad scowled and took a gulp of beer.
"Because apparently I'm an idiot. — Alessandra Hazard

Roger King is, without a doubt, the greatest salesman in the history of anything. And I don't ever limit him just to television. He could sell you anything. — Merv Griffin

He had basically told Clay he wanted the job done and he wanted his woman safe - in a very veiled code. If it took throwing down a peace flag with the one man in Midnight, he could barely pass without glaring at, then he was willing to do it. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Mhisery whether she knew it or not. The woman was buried in his heart and soul; he would tear out one or sell the other to make her happy. — Shyloh Morgan

I always went in with a very specific idea of the sound I wanted, and once I'd recorded I'd try and make it sell as much as I could, but I only went in thinking of a sound I wanted. So, it's no surprise to me that he got the hit and I didn't. But what I realized was that he did dress it up nicely, and my god, he does sing on key well. — Iggy Pop

Well, I know a guy, he's from far far away
He's a songwriter, he got something to say
He says, "People in this city are too busy to hang out
This town's so spread out, no one would hear you if you shout"
Everyone's got a script to sell and someplace else they want to be
There's always a lock that would open if you could just find the key"
(It Ain't Easy Being Green) — Shannon McNally

On his thirteenth birthday he had seen a film in which the central character was a painter who, unable to sell his work, grew cold and hungry as he went from one unsuccessful interview to the next; eventually he had become a vagrant, sleeping in the streets of the city where once he had walked in hope. Hawksmoor left the cinema in a mood of profound, terrified apprehension and, from that time, he was filled with a sense of time passing and with the fear that he might be left discarded on its banks. The fear had not left him, although now he could no longer remember from where it came: he looked back on his earlier life without curiosity, since it seemed to lack intrinsic interest, and when he looked forward he saw the same steady attainment of goals without any joy in their attainment. For him, the state of happiness was simply the state of not suffering and, if he cared for anything, it was for oblivion. — Peter Ackroyd

Interestingly, at one stage, Glaxo approached us, willing to give a manufacturing contract for its baby food to Amul. I said we could consider it on the condition that it would carry the Amul brand name. This so incensed the Glaxo boss that he is said to have declared: 'Amul will never be able to sell its brand of baby food and when their tins begin rotting on the shelves, I will have them collected and thrown into the Arabian Sea!' Such was the arrogance of multinationals. — Verghese Kurien

In an instant, he became convinced that what really tied the universe together was not the bright light and airy-fairy bullshit that spiritual people were always trying to sell. It was blood spilled in violence; it was split-second rage exacting eternal consequences, and it could happen just as easily in Owensville, California, as in the streets of Ramadi. — Christopher Rice

Some years ago a top Ford official was showing the late Walter Reuther through the very automates plant in Cleveland, Ohio and he said to him jokingly, "Walter, you'll have a hard time collecting union dues from these machines." and Walter said, "you are going to have more trouble trying to sell automobiles to them." Both of them let it stop there. There was a logical answer to that ... the owners of the machines could buy automobiles and if you increase the number of owners you increase the number of consumers. — Ronald Reagan

Damoder climbed slowly to his feet. 'Buy lot!' he wheedled, 'I am poor man. I sell you cheap. I am bank-Rupert! Apparently the only things that could save him from bank-rupertcy were our dollars. — Frank Kusy

He's like a drug, Toreth thought, as Warrick broke the kiss and stood up. Except that no drugs were that good. If he could bottle it and sell it, he'd be a billionaire. — Manna Francis

Slowly, slowly pulling up. Or grabbing hold of Debby's arm, vise-like, for an Indian rub and what starts as a joke gets more and more frantic, him rubbing until he draws speckles of blood, his teeth grinding. She could see him getting that same look Runner got when he was around the kids: jacked up and tense. "Dad needs to leave." "Geez, Patty, not even a hi before you toss me out? Come on, let's talk, I got a business proposition for you." "I'm in no position to make a business deal, Runner," she said. "I'm broke." "You're never as broke as you say," he said with a leer, and twisted his baseball cap backward on stringy hair. He'd meant it to sound jokey, but it came out menacing, as if she'd better not be broke if she knew what was good for her. He dumped the girls off him and walked over to her, standing too close as always, beer sweat sticking his longjohn shirt to his chest. "Didn't you just sell the tiller, Patty? Vern Evelee told — Gillian Flynn

When the Goldman Sachs saleswoman called Mike Burry and told him that her firm would be happy to sell him credit default swaps in $100 million chunks, Burry guessed, rightly, that Goldman wasn't ultimately on the other side of his bets. Goldman would never be so stupid as to make huge naked bets that millions of insolvent Americans would repay their home loans. He didn't know who, or why, or how much, but he knew that some giant corporate entity with a triple-A rating was out there selling credit default swaps on subprime mortgage bonds. Only a triple-A-rated corporation could assume such risk, no money down, and no questions asked. Burry was right about this, too, but it would be three years before he knew it. The party on the other side of his bet against subprime mortgage bonds was the triple-A-rated insurance company AIG - American International Group, Inc. — Michael Lewis

Manuel acquired as much land as he could afford and refused to sell it to anyone, even if he was not planting anything on it.
"La tierra no se acaba" ("the land does not perish"), he often said. — Yasmin Tirado-Chiodini