Quotes about chauffeur

A collection of quotes on the topic of chauffeur, cars, car, control.

Quotes about chauffeur

John Lennon photo
Sergei Rachmaninoff photo

“A good conductor ought to be a good chauffeur; the qualities that make the one also make the other. They are concentration, an incessant control of attention, and presence of mind; the conductor only has to add a little sense of music.”

Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873–1943) Russian composer, pianist, and conductor

Quoted in Oskar von Riesemann (trans. Dolly Rutherford) Rachmaninoff's Recollections (New York: Macmillan, 1934) p. 155.

Rick Riordan photo
Jean-François Revel photo
André Maurois photo
Woodrow Wilson photo

“The way to stop financial joy-riding is to arrest the chauffeur, not the automobile.”

Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924) American politician, 28th president of the United States (in office from 1913 to 1921)

The Atlanta Constitution (14 January 1914), p. 1 http://pqasb.pqarchiver.com/ajc_historic/access/549848262.html?dids=549848262:549848262&FMT=ABS&FMTS=ABS:AI&date=Jan+14,+1914&author=&pub=The+Atlanta+Constitution&desc=STOP+THE+%22JOY+RIDING%22+BY+ARRESTING+CHAUFFEUR+AND+NOT+THE+AUTOMOBILE&pqatl=google
1910s

“I got madder and madder as we drove along, and just as we drove by the Chelsea Hotel I did something. I've never done anything to hurt anyone, and yet I was so furious that I pressed the button and rolled down the window screen - the glass plate between the front and back seats - and I told the chauffeur that the man in the back was molesting me; he was a junkie! I was so horrified by what I'd said, so flipped out by that, that I jumped out of the car into the path of the oncoming traffic, certain that my head would be crushed.”

Edie Sedgwick (1943–1971) Socialite, actress, model

Edie describing a low point in her relationship with Bob Neuwirth
Edie : American Girl (1982)
Context: It was really sad - Bobby's and my affair. The only true, passionate, and lasting love scene, and I practically ended up in the psychopathic ward. I had really learned about sex from him, making love, loving, giving. It just completely blew my mind - it drove me a little insane. I was like a sex slave to this man. I could make love for forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, without getting tired. But the minute he left me alone, I felt so empty and lost that I would start popping pills. He had more or less quit using drugs... When I first knew him, a friend of his used to come up with him to my apartment and they'd do a number in the bathroom. This guy eventually died of a heroin overdose, and Bobby left drugs alone after that. But if I wasn't practically in the act of lovemaking, I would be thinking of how to get hold of drugs. I really loved this man.... What happened was that Bobby said, "Let's go to a party. They're making an underground movie," and he said that I, the Warhol heiress, queen, star, socialite, blah, should be there. Bobby really wanted to go. I had a bad scene with him. I pulled out a knife and I wasn't going to let him out the door until he made love to me. I always get really dreadful. But we finally went. I went through it all. I was furious - this after about two years of our continuing relationship. Finally I said, "Now I'm going to leave this party. I'm fed up." He said that was all right: he'd met all the people he wanted to meet, and he'd watched the film begin shot. So we got into my limousine and he said, "Where would you like to eat?" I thought I was going to explode. Where would I like to eat? I screeched at him, "Why the hell can't you make up your own mind where we're going to eat? Why do I have to make all the decisions?" I was just livid, out of hand. I got madder and madder as we drove along, and just as we drove by the Chelsea Hotel I did something. I've never done anything to hurt anyone, and yet I was so furious that I pressed the button and rolled down the window screen - the glass plate between the front and back seats - and I told the chauffeur that the man in the back was molesting me; he was a junkie! I was so horrified by what I'd said, so flipped out by that, that I jumped out of the car into the path of the oncoming traffic, certain that my head would be crushed. All that happened was the I got bruised, badly bruised, but no broken bones. I mean, I was conscious, not destroyed at all. But I'd done such a terrible thing! I couldn't reconcile that. I had been about to explode. The hotel people came out, and they and Bobby carried me in. I had to pretend I was unconscious because I couldn't comprehend the fact that I had tried to get him busted, to hurt him seriously. He was the only person I had ever gotten violent about. I take out whatever violence comes into my system much more heavily on myself than on anyone else. But that was a pretty tight squeeze. I really craved making love to him.

Alan Watts photo
Daniel Lyons photo

“Jon Ive is off the fucking rails and the only person who could rein him in is no longer among the living. … no way would Steve have ever been so vulgar as to be driven around by a chauffeur in a Bentley, like a modern-day pharaoh. … Jon Ive is 47 years old, secretly running Apple, and dangerously out of control.”

Daniel Lyons (1960) American writer

Apple Design Boss Jon Ive Gets Chauffeured To Work In A Bentley http://valleywag.gawker.com/apple-design-boss-jon-ive-gets-chauffeured-to-work-in-a-1686287300 in ValleyWag (17 February 2015)

Harry Graham photo

“That morning, when my wife eloped
With James, our chauffeur, how I moped!
What tragedies in life there are!
I'm dashed if I can start the car.”

Harry Graham (1874–1936) British writer

Tragedy
Ruthless Rhymes for Heartless Homes (1899)