I work a lot, and not just in Las Vegas.
I was signed to MGM. I was in Vegas for sixteen weeks at the Sands Hotel.
If you know how to live in Vegas you can have the best time.
In some circles, the Mint 400 is a far, far better thing than the Superbowl, the Kentucky Derby, and the lower Oakland roller derby finals all rolled into one. This race attracts a very special breed.
The night before I left Las Vegas I walked out in the desert to look at the moon. There was a jeweled city on the horizon, spires rising in the night, but the jewels were diadems of electric and the spires were the neon of signs ten stories high.
I mean, what do you do in Las Vegas? You gamble - and you go to strip clubs.
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.
How long can we maintain? I wonder. How long before one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family. Will he make that grim connection.
No presidential candidate should visit Las Vegas without condemning organized gambling.
Las Vegas without Wayne Newton is like Disneyland without Mickey Mouse.
The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge. And I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon. Probably at the next gas station.
I lost $35,000 in less than a week at the Mirage in Las Vegas.
We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold.
Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.
We can't stop here, this is bat country!
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas - except the drone.
And that, I think, was the handle--that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting--on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark--the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
In Vegas, I got into a long argument with the man at the roulette wheel over what I considered to be an odd number.
For a loser, Vegas is the meanest town on earth.
Las Vegas looks the way you'd imagine heaven must look at night.
We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive...." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas.
Investing should be more like watching paint dry or watching grass grow. If you want excitement, take $800 and go to Las Vegas.
Hatred is not what Las Vegas is about.
The possibility of physical and mental collapse is very real now... but collapse is out of the question; as a solution or even a cheap alternative, it is unacceptable. No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind.
Seems like the light at the end of the tunnel may be you.
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