Enzo: You were right. Jacques: About what? Enzo: It's much better down there... It's a better place... Jacques: no... Enzo: Push me back in the water... Jacques: No, I couldn't... Enzo: Jacques... Take me back down... Please...
Johanna: You really send him under the ice? He isn't a slave or convict or anything, is he? Dr. Laurence: My dear, science is a cruel mistress. Johanna: How is he going to breathe? Dr. Laurence: He isn't.
[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?
Mère Emma: Shall we toast? [pauses] Mère Emma: To love. Emma: [laughing] To love. Adèle: To love. Mère Emma: Welcome Adèle. Adèle: Big words. To love. Mère Emma: Yes, to love, my love.
The blues are intent and watchful. “You’re trying to get me to change my mind, aren't you?” “Lilah, I constantly hope that you are going to change your mind, but I know you well enough to know that you won’t.” I just nod at him.
There are so many cruel decisions parents have to make when their child dies. The funeral director requested a sheet for the coffin, and I sent the cozy flannel one, pale blue with happy snowmen, that had just been put away with the winter linens.
Listen, man: I am not the industrial godfather, king, whatever. I don't relish that title. I don't like it. I think it's limiting. I do country, I do blues. I don't just go straight.
I went out for a film where they wanted seven brothers and one sister, so I was there for half a day while they were waiting for 'Archie' to read for a boy... I've had drivers come to pick me up in England looking for a blond, blue-eyed Scottish boy.
The blues is like a planet. It's an enormous topic. You can't ignore the impact that it has had and continues to have on the whole musical culture. It's a tree that everyone is swinging from. Without it, I don't know where I would be. It's indelible ...
My room was in one of those turrets and at night I could hear the sea and the faint rustle of eelgrass in the soft wind. The weather was perfect that summer. No storms. Blue skies and just the right amount of wind every day. The sailors were in heave...
The deeper the blue becomes, the more strongly it calls man towards the infinite, awakening in him a desire for the pure and, finally, for the supernatural... The brighter it becomes, the more it loses its sound, until it turns into silent stillness ...
Potential has a shelf life.
I may have power but I do not have strength.
My Lord, my God here are my words
On angel's wings, love flew in.
My eyes are my greatest sin.
It took a pair of ghosts to open my eyes.
With lead he shaded love into the woman's eyes.
The secret of good architecture is having more than meets the eye.
Architecture struck me between the eye and the eyeball.
If we could but paint with the hand what we see with the eye.
