Lionel Logue: How do you feel? King George VI: Full of hot air. Lionel Logue: Isn't that what public speaking's all about?
Eddie Scrap-Iron Dupris: [about Maggie's decision to go by air and back by car] She made her return trip by ambulance.
[last lines] Ryan Bingham: The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over.
Natalie Keener: [Ryan overhears Natalie talking about him on the phone to her boyfriend] No, I don't think of him that way; he's old. [Startled, Ryan looks in the mirror]
Films are now made by accountants. They pick a pretty young female or male face out of the air and give them a part - not because they think that person is right for it or is ready for it, but because they think that person will make them money.
Anyone who has to fight, even with the most modern weapons, against an enemy in complete command of the air, fights like a savage against modern European troops, under the same handicaps and with the same chances of success.
More negatives write than call. It's a cheap shot for me to go on the air with the critical letters or E-mail I get because the reaction of the listeners is always an instantaneous expression of sympathy for me and contempt for the poor critic.
Yeah, even a black comedy. Where it's a little eerie. I'd love to do that. But there are about three really fabulous ones on the air now and I don't know if I can do any better than that. I'd like to sort of forge new ground.
The only two shows I watch are 'Walking Dead' and 'Nashville,' but both just went off the air for a couple of months, so I feel like I have to be productive because I'm not sitting around waiting for the next episode of zombies or mainstream country ...
You'd go in, read the script once for timing and then you would sit around and play games. The sound effects people would come in and we would do a dress rehearsal so they could get the effects and the music cues in place. Then you would wait until y...
What I believe to be jazz is constructed and improvised music which is in the air right now. But I don't think that's most people's definition of jazz, you know? We don't know what we're talking about, because we don't know the definition.
If you ask someone if they like music, they look at you strangely. It seems to be a universal given. Like asking someone if they like breathing. It is like breathing. Or air, rather. Flowing without and within. A matrix within which our lives are set...
When playing big festivals, I tend to play big, over the top techno tracks, like hands in the air songs that make sense being played in front of 30,000 people. I steer away from subtlety in the interests of big bombastic dance music.
I am up at 3:30, reading the op-ed pages and getting ready to be on the air by 6 A.M. on the set of 'Morning Joe,' and after three hours of TV and two hours on the radio, it is only 12 noon.
First of all, I would like to clear the air on one thing. Alison has slept with more men than Amanda; Sydney has slept with more men than Amanda; I think Matt has slept with more men than Amanda.
For women of my generation, it was the 'juggling act.' Jobs, marriage, children, homes, and aging parents were the balls we added, tossing them in the air as our lives filled up and praying they wouldn't come crashing down on our heads.
I don't storyboard. I guess it dates back to my days in live television, where there was no possibility of storyboarding and everything was shot right on the spot - on the air, as we say - at the moment we were transmitting. I prefer to be open to wh...
Marilyn Lovell: [none of the TV networks are showing Apollo 13's TV broadcast] Do they know they're not on the air? Henry Hurt: We'll tell them when they get back.
Bluto: [after chugging a whole bottle of Jack without a pause for air] Thanks. I needed that. [chucks the bottle behind him, which shatters on the hood of the car behind him]
Colonel Kilgore: [Explaining why the helicopters play music during air assaults] We use Wagner. It scares the shit out of the slopes. My boys love it!
Lyle: [after the farting] How 'bout some more beans, Mr. Taggart? Taggart: [fans his hat in the air] I'd say you've had enough!
