All the quotes taken from DerivaQuote. I apologize for no links but I on a borrowed computer that doesn’t have Firefox which is required to make links. Here is the site. You can copy and paste http://www.bus.lsu.edu/academics/finance/faculty/dchance/MiscProf/DerivaQuote/Qt5.htm

The trading floor of an exchange is an environment wherein a higher concentration of people are subjected to more incomplete information bits flying around than anywhere else.

Frederick Koenig
Rumors in the Marketplace, 1985, p. 159

I’ve seen the future. It uses hand signals, at least for now.

President George Bush
at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange
December 10, 1991

There are no friends in the pit. And you can quote me. You do not take prisoners in here.

Anonymous gold trader
Esquire, January, 1981

They knocked me down, knocked off my glasses and stepped all over me.

Mike Weinberg
Esquire, January, 1981, p. 35

When older traders look across that floor, they see the bodies of ghosts stacked six feet deep.

Ray Dean Mize
“Never Ever Lose Big”
American Way, January 15, 1993, p. 54

He got hit sideways in the pit, his head jerked and he’s out with a fractured vertebra. His doctor said he can’t come back to the trade floor.

Michael Wilner, NYMEX Board Member
The Wall Street Journal, March 19, 1993, p. A1

You get some guy standing next to you with gum in his mouth screaming, “Buy seven at 70,” and he spits all over you. The first thing I do when I get off the floor is go the bathroom and wash my hands, my face, my neck. I don’t want to go home and kiss my kids until I’ve washed up.

William Greenspan, stock index futures trader
The Wall Street Journal, March 19, 1993, p. A1

There was absolute physical mayhem. It looked like a kind of tribal ritual, almost a traditional circle dance.

Sabrina Peck
The Wall Street Journal, June 15, 1995, p. B1
One day a guy lost it on the floor and started screaming about Jesus and the money changers. They had to take him away.

William Greenspan, stock index futures trader
The Wall Street Journal, March 19, 1993, p. A1

One person came into the business with the highest of intentions. He had a sincere Christian faith. We worked side by side and soon became friends. He thought Jesus Christ would speak to him through the Holy Spirit about his investments. I tried to explain to my new friend that the Spirit of God truly could guide all genuine believers, but that God had given us a brain and expected us to employ that as well. My friend, however, found it to be much less of a mental strain to move around the floor of the exchange, somehow maneuvered by the Holy Spirit, while he meditated for some inner vibration as to which pit he might enter and establish a position in the market …His stay in the industry was so short-lived I hardly got to know him. And somebody else had to cover the Holy Spirit’s debit.

Mark Ritchie
God in the Pits: Confessions of a Commodities Trader, 1990, pp. 188-189

After I’d gotten my seat on the exchange, one of the guys I’d just finessed came up out of the pit and congratulated me. It’s that sort of crazy business. ‘You’ve got a great future in options,’ he predicted. ‘You can scream loud, jump high, think fast and count without using your fingers.’

Laura Pedersen
Play Money, 1991, pp. 4-5

The men on the trading floor may not have been to school, but they have Ph.D.’s in man’s ignorance. In any market, as in any poker game, there is a fool … Knowing about markets is knowing about other people’s weaknesses.

Michael Lewis
Liar’s Poker, Ch. 2 1989

Look inside the briefcase of any trader and you will discover between folds of The Wall Street Journal a veritable pharmacy – rolls of Tums, foil packs of Alka-Seltzer Plus, vials of Excedrin, Afrin Nasal Spray, Murine eye and ear drops, Sudafed decongestant, chewable vitamin C, Sinutabs, some Hall’s menthol eucalyptic lozenges, and the ubiquitous Chloroseptic. Prescribed AMEX ‘floor doses’ call for quadrupling the quantity and dividing by eight the length of between dose intervals.

Laura Pedersen
Play Money 1991, p. 16

My throat was as raw as a slab of sushi and didn’t taste half as good. My vocal chords were strained. I was going on my third case of strep throat that year and rued the days I hadn’t invested in P&G – makers of Chloraseptic or for that matter, Beechnut Lifesavers.

Laura Pedersen
Play Money 1991, p. 244

It’s like a rugby scrum.

Tom Baldwin, CBOT Trader

The Wall Street Journal, August 7, 1995, p. C1
I’ve never been in a scrum quite like it.

Rory Underwood, rugby player
on the debut of LIFFE’s Euroyen contract
Risk, May, 1996, p. 7

Think of the trading floor as some sort of gigantic auto showroom in which three hundred or so competing dealers are trying to close out their models from last year, along with last year’s trade-ins (kept discretely out of sight), while still keeping enough inventory on hand in case some cash-carrying customers walk through the door ready to make a fast on-the-spot deal.

Laura Pedersen
Play Money, 1991, p. 12

In the pit as an options trader juggling millions of dollars in nanoseconds, I would often double as ringmaster over an unruly mob of bawling, often brawling, human animals, sweating, gum-cracking, foul-mouthed men (and three women) in their twenties and thirties – capable of leaping over the barrier dividing us, ready to kill. I was expected to think and act and anticipate all at once, employing all my wiles, all my senses, including or especially my sixth. If I so much as hesitated, showing an iota of indecision, I’d risk being financially obliterated.

Laura Pedersen
Play Money, 1991, p. 11

I’d come in buck naked if I could. As it is, the more obnoxious the jacket, the better. The louder it is, the more I can rest my voice and let my jacket draw the attention.

Thomas Burke, CBOT Trader
The Wall Street Journal, July 31, 1995, p. C1

People ask me, “What should I study to become a trader? Economics? Business administration? Accounting?” Then I try not to laugh. Maybe they should study religion, because on any given day there are at least 50 people on an exchange saying, “Oh God, just let this market come back, and I’ll never do it again.”

Dennis Gartman
Futures, November, 1996, p. 20

Often Jadwin had noted the scene, and unimaginative though he was, had long since conceived the notion of some great, some resistless force within the Board of Trade Building that held the tide of the streets within its grip, alternately drawing it in and throwing it forth. Within there, a great whirlpool, a pit of roaring water spun and thundered, sucking in the life tides of the city, sucking them in as into the mouth of some tremendous cloaca, the maw of some colossal sewer; the vomiting them forth again, spewing them up and out, only to catch them in the return eddy and suck them in afresh.

Frank Norris
The Pit, 1902
1994 edition, Penguin Books, p. 72

This crowd of young money movers is not above shooting spitballs or snapping rubber bands. But make no mistake: The frat house pranks are matched by unbridled entrepreneurism.

Matthew Schifrin
“Battle-Scarred Veterans at 25.”
Forbes, January 26, 1998, p. 71.

It is said that in one of the pits one morning a trader died of a heart-attack in the crush but his body was wedged in so tightly it could not fall to the floor. Some time passed before the dealers around him noticed his demise but when they did, they took immediate action. They began feverishly filling in dealing tickets which gave them handsome profits from imaginary trades between themselves and the dead trader.

Richard Thomson
Apocalypse Roulette
1998, p. 49

If the financial markets are a war zone, this is the theater of hand-to-hand combat.

Richard Thomson
Apocalypse Roulette
1998, p. 49

The floor is a swirl of red, green, and yellow jackets that on closer inspection reveal themselves to be little more than polyester sacks slipped on for the purpose of identifying the person yelling in your face.

The Predictors
Thomas A. Bass
1999, p. 10

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