I think my friend Tom Hanks knows me. He understands me very well. He's always had a sort of parental feeling toward me. He knows I'm a big mush ball, which is just part of my personality.
I read the last Harry Potter, and I cried for at least the last 70 pages. Awful! I was curled into a ball and I just kept sobbing. It was embarrassing. I was loud, and I just kept wiping tears away so I could see the page.
When you have lived your life under such dominant image-leadership, its pressures put a certain invisible English on the cue ball of your development: It influences all of your ideas about who you should be, all the ways in which you become yourself.
I mean, I come from a hippie mentality where I just think to know someone, you need to look into their eyes. Eyes are so important. Until they start melon-balling eyes out, I won't be able to get to know someone another way.
The Term Paper Artist' represents two models of writing, one of the little boy bouncing his ball, generating stories for the sheer pleasure of it, and the besieged adult, writing to make a living, having to contend with a very competitive, very unrel...
I played a lot of baseball growing up, and I always hit better if I kept moving before the pitch instead of standing still in the batter's box. I think a waggle does the same thing in the golf swing. It keeps you relaxed and gets your body ready to h...
I have three younger siblings, so the four of us were outside all the time after school playing games, making up games. My sister made up a game called 'roof ball.' We'd play that constantly. She always beat me in it, and it made me very mad. But we ...
Sometimes I just get over-excited. I see the pitch and I think, 'I have to get this wicket.' When I am just looking to bowl, I am calm and composed, and most of the time I get it right. The ball lands where I want it to.
My game is really played above time. I don't say that like I'm saying I'm ahead of my time. I'm saying, like, if I'm on the court and I throw a pass, the ball that I've thrown will lead my teammate right where he needs to go, before he even knows tha...
My mother is from another time - the funniest person to her is Lucille Ball; that's what she loves. A lot of times she tells me she doesn't know what I'm talking about. I know if I wasn't her son and she was flipping through the TV and saw me, she wo...
Mae Pollitt: [to Big Mama] Gooper is your first born. Why he always had to carry a bigger load of the resposibilities than Brick? Brick never carried a thing in his life but a football or a high ball.
Buggin' Out: Yo, Sal, we're gonna boycott your fat pasta ass. Sal: You're gonna boycott me? You haven't got the *balls* to boycott me. Here, here's your boycott, up your ass. You've got a boycott.
Animal Mother: Freedom? [scoffs] Animal Mother: You'd better flush out your head, new guy. This isn't about freedom; this is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is "poontang".
Robert E. Lee "Prew' Prewitt: A man don't go his own way, he's nothing. Sergeant Milton Warden: Maybe back in the days of the pioneers a man could go his own way, but today you got to play ball.
Perry: [Calling Harmony after escaping torture with Harry] Hey, Harmony, it's me. Harmony: Oh, God, how did you get away? Perry: I shot him with a small revolver I keep near my balls.
Malcolm Tucker: Fucking hung up, haven't you? You fucking hoity-toity fucking... Tourist: Hey, buddy? Enough with the curse words, all right? Malcolm Tucker: Kiss my sweaty balls, you fat fuck. [he runs into the distance]
[after Petey makes a fumble] Coach Boone: Petey, how many feet are in a mile? How many feet are in a mile? Petey Jones: [mumbles] Coach Boone: 5,280 feet! You pick this ball up and run every one of 'em! You're killing me, Petey! You're killing me!
Coach Yoast: [after winning the state championship] I know football, and what you did with those boys. You were the right man for the job, Coach! Coach Boone: You're a Hall-of-Famer in my book! [both raise game ball in victory]
Raleigh: You've made a cuckold of me. Margot: I know. Raleigh: Many times over. Margot: I'm sorry. Raleigh: And you nearly killed your poor brother. Ethel: What's he talking about? Margot: It doesn't matter. Raleigh: She's balling Eli Cash.
Dr. Alex Brulov: And how do you know what his real character is? Constance Petersen: I know. I know. Dr. Alex Brulov: She knows. This is the way science goes backward. Who told you what he is? Freud?, or a crystal ball?
Wicked Witch of the West: Helping the little lady along are you, my fine gentlemen? Well stay away from her, or I'll stuff a mattress with you! And you, I'll make you into a beehive. Here Scarecrow, want to play ball?
