The Chinese poet George Wu ... recorded on his comlog: "Poets are the mad midwives to reality. They see not what is, nor what can be, but what must become." Later, on his last disk to his lover the week before he died, Wu said: "Words are the only bu...
You know your all fucks! why am i so dichable? now how am i supposed to kill you with out upseting that poor nice women!? God damnit alice i liked you why did you have to be such a bitch
The last remnants of Deanna the child--the idealist, the sheltered elite--had been torn loose by tonight's tragedies, slain with the same bullet that had felled her would-be killer. She had no idea who the new person inhabiting this shell of her old ...
New research into cognitive functioning—how the brain works—proves that bullet points are the least effective way to deliver important information. Neuroscientists are finding that what passes as a typical presentation is usually the worst way to...
I think it was Milosz, the Polish poet, who when he lay in a doorway and watched the bullets lifting the cobbles out of the street beside him realised that most poetry is not equipped for life in a world where people actually die. But some is.
Love great first lines and paragraphs. From The Yiddish Policemen's Union: Nine months Landsman's been flopping at the Hotel Zamenhof without any of his fellow residents managing to get themselves murdered. Now somebody has put a bullet in the brain ...
Certain songs are almost like folk songs, which I love. I love folk music, and if you listen to 'Live Bullet,' there's 'Jody Girl,' which is almost a folk song, and I've always loved folk music. Quiet music, I don't try to do that with - I try to set...
October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on e...
Max: Hey. [stuttering] Max: He, he, he fell on the cab. He fell, he fell from up there on the motherfucking cab. Shit. I think he's dead. Vincent: Good guess. Max: You killed him? Vincent: No, I shot him. Bullets and the fall killed him.
Commentator: The time elapsed from the first to the last shot was seven seconds. In all, more than 140 shots were fired. Sever bullets pierced the president's car; one came within an inch of his head. But, as if by a miracle, neither he nor anyone el...
Narrator: [while brutally beating Angel Face] I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all the French beaches I'd never see. I wa...
Anne Kronenberg: [as Harvey prepares to adress a crowd] This came in the mail today. Harvey Milk: [reading] 'You get the first bullet the minute you stand at the microphone.' Well, publicity's working. Anne Kronenberg: You don't have to go up there. ...
Raoul Silva: [on seeing that M is wounded] You're hurt. You're hurt! What have they done to you? What have they done to you? [puts his gun in her hand] Raoul Silva: Free us both. With the same bullet. Only you can do it. Do it! Do it!
[after John has finally admitted that Dr. Edwardes fell off a cliff in a skiing accident and that he did not murder him] Constance Petersen: Well, thank goodness it's all cleared up. Det. Lt. Cooley: Well, not quite, Dr. Petersen. I'm afraid a bullet...
Captain Miller: [on Omaha Beach] Bangalors up the line!Bagalors up the line! Sergeant Horvath: Heads up, bangers comin' your way. Private Caparzo: [a soldier's helmet is struck by a bullet and he then takes it off] Jesus, lucky bastard. [the other so...
Nobody could like Donald Trump, surely, except his mother. No one really likes The Donald. But how can you not have respect for a guy who's been down on the floor and just keeps coming back? Nothing will keep Donald Trump down until they drive a wood...
For years I've wanted to write a book about mummies, and had been following the science of mummy CT scans when the premise for 'The Keepsake' occurred to me: what if an 'ancient' mummy turns out to have a bullet in its leg? How does a modern murder v...
Grimes: Why aren't you shooting? Waddell: We're not being shot at yet. Grimes: How can you tell? Waddell: A hiss means it's close. A snap means... [a bullet whizzes close by] Waddell: Now they're shooting at us! [they begin returning fire]
Yuri: I also have some dim-dims. You use this word, dim-dims? The bullets that make the head explode? Harry: Dum-dums. Yeah. Yuri: Would you like some of these dim-dims? Harry: I know I shouldn't... but I will. [takes whole case of dum-dums]
I ruin everything. I think that a bullet must have passed through my heart when I was very young, causing me to bleed out slowly, over things and people and every white surface that I’d ever come across.
I knew right then and there that I would become as courageous as I needed in order to keep him safe. I thought of the soldiers and bullets that I hid from in Asmara. I would stand and fight them to keep Fili safe.
