Erika Jayne interview to Billboard https://www.billboard.com/articles/news/508270/spotlight-on-erika-jayne (2012)
“I've been called over the top. How silly. If you don't go over the top, you can't see what's on the other side.”
As quoted in "The Bat out of Hell" by Jonathan Karp in The Washington Post (26 January 26 1997) http://www.jimsteinman.com/peterpan.htm
Help us to complete the source, original and additional information
Jim Steinman 32
American musician 1947Related quotes

“On top of the world,
Looking over the edge,
You could see them coming.”
Song lyrics, Hounds of Love (1985)
Context: On top of the world,
Looking over the edge,
You could see them coming.
You looked too small
In their big, black car,
To be a threat to the men in power.

On staying in top form despite suffering a stroke in 2016 in “Roberta Flack Ready to Sing Again at Jazz Foundation of America Honors” https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/pop/8479635/roberta-flack-ready-to-sing-again-jazz-foundation-of-america-honors in Billboard (2018 Oct 12)

to John Cena
February 18, 2013
WWE Raw

Source: An Idiot Abroad: The Travel Diaries of Karl Pilkington

Roane County Tea Party rally, 2011-10-15, quoted in * Cain Proposes Electrified Border Fence
The Caucus
New York Times
2011-10-15
Edward
Wyatt
http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/10/15/cain-proposes-electrified-border-fence/
2011-10-17
describing his plan to "secure the border for real" with an electric fence

“I've been in The Who, I've been in The Beatles and I've been in Pink Floyd! Top that!”
Record Collector (May 2003)

Lecture to the Chicago chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution (1904); later published as "The Art and Craft of the Machine" in On Architecture: Selected Writings (1894-1940) (1941) <!-- Duell, Sloan, & Pearce publishers -->
Context: If you would see how interwoven it is in the warp and woof of civilization … go at night-fall to the top of one of the down-town steel giants and you may see how in the image of material man, at once his glory and his menace, is this thing we call a city. There beneath you is the monster, stretching acre upon acre into the far distance. High over head hangs the stagnant pall of its fetid breath, reddened with light from myriad eyes endlessly, everywhere blinking. Thousands of acres of cellular tissue, the city’s flesh outspreads layer upon layer, enmeshed by an intricate network of veins and arteries radiating into the gloom, and in them, with muffled, persistent roar, circulating as the blood circulates in your veins, is the almost ceaseless beat of the activity to whose necessities it all conforms. The poisonous waste is drawn from the system of this gigantic creature by infinitely ramifying, thread-like ducts, gathering at their sensitive terminals matter destructive of its life, hurrying it to millions of small intestines to be collected in turn by larger, flowing to the great sewers, on to the drainage canal, and finally to the ocean.