#ladder

Management is efficiency in climbing the ladder of success; leadership determines whether the ladder is leaning against the right wall. ↗

— Stephen Covey

#climbing #determines #efficiency #ladder #leadership

Being popular with an audience is a very rickety ladder to be on. ↗

— Louis C. K.

#being #ladder #popular #very

If US per capita income continues to grow at a rate of 1.5 percent a year, the country will have plenty of money to finance comfortable retirements and high-quality healthcare for all citizens, including those at the bottom of the wage ladder. ↗

— William Greider

#capita #citizens #comfortable #continues #country

The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder. ↗

— Alfred Hitchcock

#bladder #directly #endurance #film #human

It is a paradox that every dictator has climbed to power on the ladder of free speech. Immediately on attaining power each dictator has suppressed all free speech except his own. ↗

— Herbert Hoover

#climbed #dictator #each #every #except

In my case Pilgrim's Progress consisted in my having to climb down a thousand ladders until I could reach out my hand to the little clod of earth that I am. ↗

— Carl Jung

#case #climb #consisted #could #down

She's the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong. ↗

— Mae West

#girl #kind #ladder #she #success

I've never been one to look up the ladder. I've always looked down the ladder. As long as there's one guy down there, I'm fine. ↗

— Ron White

#been #down #fine #guy #i

You might think about putting some heavy-duty hooks into the ceiling joists and beams so that you can have a rope ladder, or a small swing inside your house. ↗

— Paula Yates

#beams #ceiling #hooks #house #inside

If ever again we happened to lose our balance, just when sleepwalking through the same dream on the brink of hell’s valley, if ever the magical mare (whom I ride through the night air hollowed out into caverns and caves where wild animals live) in a crazy fit of anger over some word I might have said without the perfect sweetness that works on her like a charm, if ever the magic Mare looks over her shoulder and whinnies: “So! You don’t love me!” and bucks me off, sends me flying to the hyenas, if ever the paper ladder that I climb so easily to go pick stars for Promethea—at the very instant that I reach out my hand and it smells like fresh new moon, so good, it makes you believe in god’s genius—if ever at that very instant my ladder catches fire—because it is so fragile, all it would take is someone’s brushing against it tactlessly and all that would be left is ashes—if ever I had the dreadful luck again to find myself falling screaming down into the cruel guts of separation, and emptying all my being of hope, down to the last milligram of hope, until I am able to melt into the pure blackness of the abyss and be no more than night and a death rattle, I would really rather not be tumbling around without my pencil and paper. ↗

— Hélène Cixous

#fire #hope #ladder #writing #anger