Banker's Holiday Quotes

“The Green Judges, most of them decidedly miffed, grumbled out one by one, though I got a wink and a thumbsup from Washington.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“I even seemed to be moving in kind of robotic, audio-animatronic fashion, beep boop.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Americans have a love affair with weak coffee.’ ‘And you’re a coffee expert, too,’ Gwen said, cutting a thick slice of apple pie.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Gray-matter auditors stepped in and shut down my eyes, confiscated my keys.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Yes, there was a great power and satisfaction in giving up all hope.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Before and behind me, nothing but infernal things were made and sold, and I endured inbetween, infernally.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“About a third of the motel was painted a sandy beige, with a tide line of rain revealing the original color: faded green, the color of old money.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“And every little burg had the same building hierarchy: banks, churches, insurance companies, and hardware stores.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Bedouins believe their Heaven to be a lush paradise of trees and running water; mine was no different, though my sprinklers were timed.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Something was very wrong, somewhere, and if I didn’t get away soon, I feared it would be too late: I’d have no choice but to join them.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“Most cities are like deserts: concrete and steel, dust and ash, rusty detritus in the outskirts, the occasional oasis.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

“The bank gods paid a visit after sunset, towering and stiff, ponderously regal and quasiparental in the gray twilight.”
― Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity