Larry Ellison Quotes

The computer industry is the only industry that is more fashion-driven than women's fashion.

The computer industry is the only industry that is more fashion-driven than women's fashion.

What in the name of Hitler's panties and matching bra set was she talking about?

It's not a bloody piano, it's a clarenARt...you weird talking person.

I don't know if you have noticed this, but it is quite possible for two human beings to have a conversation in which one or both parties involved has absolutely no idea what they're talking about.

I can't think of anything that isn't cloud computing with all of these announcements. The computer industry is the only industry that is more fashion-driven than women's fashion. Maybe I'm an idiot, but I have no idea what anyone is talking about. What is it?

I feel like Alice falling into Wonderland. A line came to him: It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.

I don't have time for any nonsense.

Talking to you is like -- like talking to an eel!" "No, is it? I've never tried to talk to an eel. Isn't it as waste of time?" "Not such a waste of time as talking to you!

I really kind of pride myself on figuring stuff out pretty quickly but I couldn't, couldn't. I just had no idea.

I do not understand this analogy," Mencheres muttered.

The trouble was that he was talking in philosophy but they were listening in gibberish.

No. You know what really bugs me about my videos? When they can't figure out what to do, they just have me change clothes five times.

If I hear ‘Karma Chameleon’ one more time, I swear I’m going to find Boy George and make him eat Jesse’s record. What does red, gold, and green have to do with anything anyway? (Gloria)

Sometimes talking to you is like talking to myself: pretty damned annoying.

Work, the what's-its-name of the thingummy and the thing-um-a-bob of the what d'you-call-it.

It really doesn't matter to me. We're just talking about clothes. I can understand what the NBA is trying to do. I love my sneakers, but we're just talking about clothes.

You speak baby gibberish?' asked Jack. 'Fluently. The adult-education center ran a course, and I have a lot of time on my hands.' 'So what did he say?' 'I don't know.' 'I thought you said you spoke gibberish?' 'I do. But your baby doesn't. I think he's speaking either pre-toddler nonsense, a form of infact burble or an obscure dialect of gobbledygook. In any event, I can't understand a word he's saying.' 'Oh.

I may have no idea what I'm talking about," I said, a little ticked off now. "But we're all a part of a minority waiting for a majority to pull their heads out of their asses.

It is ludicrous to read the microwave direction on the boxes of food you buy, as each one will have a disclaimer: THIS WILL VARY WITH YOUR MICROWAVE. Loosely translated, this means, You're on your own, Bernice.

"Hello, Max," he said quietly, searching my face. "How do you feel?" Which was a ten on the 'imbecilic question' scale of one to ten. "Why, I feel fine, Jeb," I said brightly. "How about you?" "Any nausea? Headache?" "Yep. And it's standing here talking to me."

I thank you for nothing, because I understand nothing.

He's going to be okay," said Quentin. "He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around." "Weird and irritating?" I raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?" Quentin shrugged. "That's already how you get when he isn't around.

I tried to swallow his nonsense without choking.

Social mores change with time, like fashion - who knows where it might all end up? I especially like the idea that waste, impoliteness and overpopulation become "abominations," although I'm not sure recycling one's aunt will ever truly catch on.