[last lines] Zuzu Bailey: Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings. George Bailey: That's right, that's right. George Bailey: [Looks heavenward] Attaboy, Clarence.
Wendell: [referring to the dead bodies in the desert] How come you reckon the coyotes ain't been at them? Ed Tom Bell: I don't know. Supposedly, a coyote won't eat a Mexican.
Ed Tom Bell: How many of those things you got now? Ellis: Cats? Several. Well, depends what you mean by got. Some are half-wild, and some are just outlaws.
Pvt. Jack Bell: [voice over] We. We together. One being. Flow together like water. Till I can't tell you from me. I drink you. Now. Now.
Private Jack Bell: [Narrating] Why should I be afraid to die? I belong to you. If I go first, I'll wait for you there, on the other side of the dark waters. Be with me now.
At least in part, people are attracted to subjects where they can identify at a basic level with the people who do it. The extraordinary aesthetic of the natural world is not obvious to someone who never leaves the inner city. Appreciation of the ele...
I respect country music because I feel like it's more about the talent and the songwriting and I put on a big show and we have a lot of stuff, but I feel confident in myself enough as an artist and a singer that I can have all of those fun toys and k...
Most of us cluster somewhere in the middle of most statistical distributions. But there are lots of bell curves, and pretty much everyone is on a tail of at least one of them. We may collect strange memorabilia or read esoteric books, hold unusual re...
Belle: [singing] Ohhh, isn't this amazing / It's my favorite part because, you'll see / Here's where she meets Prince Charming / But she won't discover that it's him / 'Til chapter three.
[Enzo pulls out a whiskey flask in a diving bell] Noireuter: Is that alcohol? That's *really* forbidden! Enzo: Hey, do you have any more complaints? Just make a list and we'll stick it on the porthole, OK?
At noon, on the Fourth of July, 1826, while the Liberty Bell was again sounding its old message to the people of Philadelphia, the soul of Thomas Jefferson passed on; and a few hours later John Adams entered into rest, with the name of his old friend...
Well, there's a piece of Maria in every song that I sing. And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings. And there is always one last light to turn out and one last bell to ring. And the last one out of the circus has to lock up eve...
The woods were made for the hunter of dreams, The brooks for the fishers of song; To the hunters who hunt for the gunless game The streams and the woods belong. There are thoughts that moan from the soul of pine And thoughts in a flower bell curled; ...
I wish grace and healing were more abracadabra kind of things. Also, that delicate silver bells would ring to announce grace's arrival. But no, it's clog and slog and scootch, on the floor, in the silence, in the dark.
Mirabelle always ate her lunch on Brighton beach if the weather was in any way passable, but out of sheer principle she never paid tuppence for a chair. We did not win the war to have to pay to sit down, she frequently found herself thinking.
She had abruptly flipped from the southern belle and was now putting on the extremely businesslike air of those perfectionist women who'd only worked in the professional world for two or three years before stopping to have children and were now terri...
Oh you dear companions Electric bells of the stations song of the reapers Butcher's sleigh regiment of unnumbered streets Cavalry of bridges nights livid with alcohol The cities I've seen lived like mad women (The Voyager)
She wanted me to remember that pleasure is political--for the capacity to relax and play renews the spirit and makes it possible for us to come to the work of writing clearer, ready for the journey. (bell hooks about Toni Cade Bambara)
Remember what your mama told you about honey and vinegar: Be nice, and you’ll catch more flies, if nothing else.
Consider me your rescuer, not your jailer," he said to Frankie, without looking at her. His gut told him that, on the criminal mastermind scale, this one landed closer to Tinker Bell than Lizzie Borden.
Christmas crept into Pine Cove like a creeping Christmas thing: dragging garland, ribbon, and sleigh bells, oozing eggnog, reeking of pine, and threatening festive doom like a cold sore under the mistletoe.
