He uses statistics like a drunk uses lamp-posts, more for support than illumination.
quote by Romano Prodi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp posts - for support rather than for illumination.
quote by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An unsophisticated forecaster uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts - for support rather than for illumination.
quote by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Statistics are used much like a drunk uses a lamppost: for support, not illumination.
quote by Vin Scully
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Statistics are like a drunk with a lampost: used more for support than illumination.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lampposts -- for support rather than for illumination.
quote by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I notice increasing reluctance on the part of marketing executives to use judgment; they are coming to rely too much on research, and they use it as a drunkard uses a lamp post for support, rather than for illumination.
quote by David Ogilvy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So what are you doing with your life now?
She says
She stares blankly on the wall
She is busy
Counting the lamp posts on the streets
She is so busy
She thinks God is preparing something
Grand for her and she is so busy
Too preparing something for God
Who prepares for her.
I am amazed
I ask her
“So, did you stare long enough on that blank wall
Was it really blank? Did you really stare?
What made the wall so blank? Is the stare really
Worth making on a blank wall?
And how many lamp posts have you counted?
Is the street filled with lamp posts?
How is God? When will the preparation last?
How are you doing with God? Is God busy too? ”
She is a little bit understanding to my way of thinking.
“There you are making a poem again. You have never changed.”
She said.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be able to analyze statistics, which can be used to support or undercut almost any argument.
quote by Marilyn vos Savant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hit on a Lamp post in the day light!
'Hey! Are you drunk? ' he asked me in a friendly manner.
'No chum, haven't seen a dropp long time as I am out of a billet now.' I too replied him politely.
'Why don't you come with a heavy book in the night
And you can read a lot, I'll give you light free of charge.'
'You are so kind like a night flower.'
'Be on alert while reading because anytime the Paradise requests for street Lamps as the curfew there it seems? ,
We can go together but must sign a contract they too have a policy of hire & fire.'
* It's really amazing when human beings keep their mouths shut the lamp posts talk very politely like the stone age?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you like to read, sometimes it's interesting just to go and see what the reality is, of the word, of the seedy or not so seedy fiction writer, the drunk or sober poet... Sometimes you can go looking for illumination.
quote by Harold Brodkey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've come loaded with statistics, for I've noticed that a man can't prove anything without statistics.
quote by Mark Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The statistics of life out there and the statistics of intelligent beings and advanced civilization is a certainty, the way I look at it. that It has not been accepted, because we've been in an anthropocentric era.
quote by Story Musgrave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost Horizons
The last horizons I can see are filled with bars and factories
And in them all we fight to stay awake...
Drink enough of anything to make this world look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
She had nothing left to say so she said she loved me
I stood there grateful for the lie...
Drink enough of anything to make this girl look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
Turn summer trees to bones and ice
Turn insect songs against the night
With words we build and words we break
Im drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves...
Drink enough of anything to make myself look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paghubad Sa Balak Ni Candice #3
Duality
A gloomy wintry night
Standing between two lamp posts
My pair of shadows
Four wheel drive
Wala na sa Mindanao
Nagtindog sa tunga sa meralco
Ang gunting niyang anino
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Drunk Tonight
I wanna get drunk tonight
get drunk, so drunk
and travel beyond time
where I can see my youth
only my youth
where you were so in love with me
and I was so in love with you.
I wanna get drunk tonight
get drunk, so drunk
and travel beyond eternity
where I can see you and I
no one else
but you and I
loving each other.
I wanna get drunk tonight
get drunk, so drunk
so you will carry me
hold me
in your arms
and lay me beside you
till morning comes...
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Dont Drive Drunk
He and his wife have had problems
That hes played off like nothings wrong
til he comes home from work early
Just to find the girl is gone
Oh but he gets into the cupboard
Picks out that bottle of gin
Drinks like theres no tomorrow
And decides to take a spin
No dont drive drunk
Dont drive drunk, no
Dont drive drunk
Mothers against drunk drivers are mad
Teenager at a live party
Says, give me one for the road
But hes already so inebriated
If you lit a smoke hed explode
But bartender says, I dont think so
Young one says, I can deal
Staggering out he says, check you all later
But I really dont think he will
No dont drive drunk
Dont drive drunk, no
Dont drive drunk
Mothers against drunk drivers are mad
(repeat)
(background)
Dont drive drunk
D-d-d dont drive drunk
Dont drive drunk
Hicup
(repeat)
Boy out with girl on their first date
Gets pulled over by the law
Officer says, hey cant you drive straight
Or have you been drinking alcohol?
Boy says, man are you crazy?
Cop says, hey then walk this line
But results from the breathalizer
Proves hes charged with d.u.i.
No dont drive drunk
Dont drive drunk, no
Dont drive drunk
Mothers against drunk drivers are mad
(repeat)
(background)
Dont drive drunk
D-d-d dont drive drunk
Dont drive drunk
Hicup
(repeat)
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There has been this - and it's reflected in the broadcasts - this moronic use of statistics. Which has suggested to everyone who is intelligent the use of statistics is moronic.
quote by Michael Lewis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Things to Hand
In the skull kept on the desk.
In the spider-pod in the dust.
Or nowhere. In milkmaids, in loaves,
Or nowhere. And if Socrates leaves
His house in the morning,
When he returns in the evening
He will find Socrates waiting
On the doorstep. Buddha the stick
You use to clear the path,
And Buddha the dog-doo you flick
Away with it, nowhere or in each
Several thing you touch:
The dollar bill, the button
That works the television.
Even in the joke, the three
Words American men say
After making love. Where's
The remote? In the tears
In things, proximate, intimate.
In the wired stem with root
And leaf nowhere of this lamp:
Brass base, aura of illumination,
Enlightenment, shade of grief.
Odor of the lamp, brazen.
The mind waiting in the mind
As in the first thing to hand.
poem by Robert Pinsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lamp In Us!
The small lamp commenced to burn,
When two bodies united as one,
From the day one until the day yet to know,
The lamp burns slowly in the spirit of ions.
Keeping the lamp safe from rough climes,
Protecting the yarn from the heavy dye,
Nourishing the lamp with fuels approved,
The lamp may burn quietly as expected.
we let it burn with bigger flame,
By adding steroidal fuels and nocturnal fun,
we let the motor to run in higher speed,
by pressing the temptation to accelerate.
The lamp may start to play snake and ladder,
By climbing up and down at the dice of illnesses,
Sometimes gets overheated to jam up the motor,
Hold your lamp lovingly for it to glow pleasantly.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wilson and Broadway at 4 a.m.
Chicago
Sunday evening. Drunk
and strolling home.
On the way an hour now,
block after block,
bar to bar.
Weekend's gone,
Monday's turning.
Along the way
his swollen fingers find
parking meter posts
are an endless xylophone.
Plunked, they play
the anthem
of a life misspent.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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