(C) AllGreatQuotes. All Rights Reserved.
The Depression did more to me than being a little Lebanese kid did.
– Joe Jamail
Your attitude will go a long way in determining your success, your recognition, your reputation and your enjoyment in being a lawyer.
When Frank Broyles coached at Arkansas, he used to have a golf tournament each year for all the Southwest Conference coaches.
I think Wallace Hall is an imbecile.
For me, being a lawyer means to help those in need.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve known I could talk to people.
Do you know what the root of mediation is? Mediocrity!
The feeling of being accepted and acknowledgement and recognition and fame – I’m vain like everybody else. The feeling of achievement that I’ve helped the poor or somebody in need far outweighs the money.
I spent a year at Southwestern Louisiana Institute, then transferred back to the University of Texas, where I majored in English and history.
It’s not a bad thing fighting for equality and helping the poor. It’s not a bad thing to have on your professional tombstone: ‘He believed in equality and he helped the poor.’
There are more pompous, arrogant, self-centered, mediocre-type people running corporate America who should be sent out on some postal route delivering mail.
Any good trial lawyer knows that if you’ve got one credible expert or scientific study, then you can let the jury decide.
By not trying the small cases, the lawyers don’t get the courtroom experience. So when the huge, bet-the-company cases come along, there are only a handful of trial lawyers who can handle it. That’s why these big corporations still call us old-timers every day.
That’s a good feeling, to save your clients two billion dollars.
The money doesn’t really matter. I’ve been a multi-millionaire for a long time. My sons are rich.
For every dollar we have given to athletics, we have given about 27 to higher education or medical research.
I didn’t do too well until my second year, when I realized that there were no right or wrong answers and that my professors were interested only in how well I could develop an argument.
You had to have a unanimous jury verdict, and one percent of contributory negligence barred all recovery. It was so satisfying to realize I could do it. And I’ll tell you what motivated me: competitiveness. I was betting on me. That’s what a contingent-fee lawyer does.
I was taught that a lawyer was supposed to be a custodian of the community’s legal and ethical sense.
If you start comparing my practice of law to what I could have been – selling bananas – you’ll know why I gave money to the University of Texas.
I don’t think the trial practice is dead. But it is very ill. There are some days you could throw a hand grenade down the hall of the Harris County Courthouse and not hit anybody.
I didn’t know who she was, but I knew she was hungry, so I started handing out $100 bills and called the office and told them to bring me a bunch more. Then I had my cousin’s store deliver a bunch of smoked ham and turkeys. I mean, these people are hungry and living under a bridge.
I don’t think I’m a good ol’ boy. Honestly, the last thing I am is a redneck. I like silk sheets, fancy cars, beautiful women, good whiskey.
I can’t describe the feeling I got the first time I won a jury award for an injured person.
I sent people to the penitentiary as fast as I could, never thinking about whether they deserved it.
It’s a great feeling knowing you’ve helped someone. That’s what I’ve spent my life doing and my practice.