Ich finde, dass das Glück zu einem kleinen Schlage, den es uns versetzen will, oft erschrecklich weit ausholt. Man sollte glauben, es wolle uns zerschmettern, und hat uns am Ende nichts, als eine Mücke auf der Stirne tot geschlagen.
Anyway, so here I was caught between Johnson on the one side, who was my leader, I was his whip, and here was my dear friend, personal friend, Kennedy, and they're going to go into my state and ruin it. What am I going to do?
In 2008, I was the woman who thought she had the world by the tail: the "perfect life." In 2010, I was the woman without hope who thought she had no life left to live. Which woman am I today? Neither. Both were illusions.
My acting has always been in the world of comedy, but in my writing, other than writing sketches, I really am drawn to the balance between comedy and drama. I like things that sort of toe that line of one minute you're in this emotional space and the...
I really liked doing a number of the projects and directors, and etc., etc., I knew about half-way through that I would never be doing that again. It's just not me. I really am happy as a part-time film composer, not a full-time film composer.
But it's like the horror of being in a studio with a blank canvas. I used to always run out of ideas because there are so many possibilities and I would just think, well what am I going to do now!
I really am a believer that 99.99% of all the stories we need, not only as artists but as human beings, not only as writers but as readers, haven't been written yet. Certainly haven't been published yet.
Am I being typecast as a horrible person? I don't know. I don't think so. But if it happens, I'd rather get to play that, because there's nothing fun about being sweet. Sweet can be so boring, so I'd be happy staying away from that.
In my career as a director, there's always been some point where you get halfway through it, or three-quarters, and you go: 'What is this thing all about, and why am I telling the story? Does anybody really care about seeing this?' At that time you h...
With the kids around, this is a different world to me. I spend a lot of time with them till they go to their playschool. I wake up early, have breakfast with them. I come back from work and am with them again till they go to bed by 10 P.M. Touch wood...
I've never read a book or attended a class on screenwriting. I'm not opposed to the idea, but I like what I've got going on naturally and want to protect that. The one question I will ask myself as I'm re-reading a script for the 60th time is, 'Am I ...
[denying an official of the German National Bank entrance to the casino] Rick: Your cash is good at the bar. Banker: What? Do you know who I am? Rick: I do. You're lucky the *bar's* open to you.
Clark: [Clark looks down at the jello and sees that it's trimmed with cat food] Aunt Bethany, does your cat eat jello? Eddie: I don't know about the cat, but *I* sure am enjoying it.
[Lefty is banging a parking meter very loudly with a hammer] Sonny Black: Hey, will you fuckin' stop that? Lefty: How am I gonna get this thing open? [looks back at the meter] Lefty: Open Sesame!
Walter Neff: You'll be here too? Phyllis: I guess so, I usually am. Walter Neff: Same chair, same perfume, same anklet? Phyllis: I wonder if I know what you mean. Walter Neff: I wonder if you wonder.
Sergeant Prendergast: [the other detectives have filled his desk with kitty litter] How am I supposed to get a pen out of here? Detective Keene: You don't need a pen. Just use one of them cat turds.
Michael Llewelyn Davies: Excuse me, sir, you're standing on my sleeve. J.M. Barrie: [moves his foot and looks down to face Michael] Am I? So sorry. I might point out you're lying under my bench.
Norman Ellison: You're wounded. Wardaddy: Sure am. Norman Ellison: Sergeant Collier? Wardaddy: My name's Don. Norman Ellison: Sorry. Don? Wardaddy: Yeah kid? Norman Ellison: I'm scared. Wardaddy: I'm scared too, son.
Saigo: [a letter to Saigo's wife] We soldiers dig. We dig all day. This is the hole that we will fight and die in. Am I digging my own grave?
Algren: [shouting] What the hell am I doing here? ['Bob' rushes up, about to draw his sword and kill Algren, but Katsumoto gestures for him to stop] Katsumoto: In spring the snows will melt and the passes will open. Until that time, you are here.
Mendoza: Leave me alone. You know what I am. Gabriel: Yes. You are a mercenary. You are a slave trader. And you killed your brother. I know. And you loved him... although you chose a strange way to show it.
