Dallas: Something has attached itself to him. We have to get him to the infirmary right away. Ripley: What kind of thing? I need a clear definition. Dallas: An organism. Open the hatch. Ripley: Wait a minute. If we let it in, the ship could be infect...
William Wallace: [after being outthrown] That's a good throw. Hamish: Aye. Aye, it was. William Wallace: I was wondering if you could do that when it matters. [Hamish stares at him] William Wallace: As it - as it matters in battle. [Hamish continues ...
The trouble with being too careful about your wishes, though, was that you could end up with a wish so shapeless that it could come true and you wouldn’t even know it, or it wouldn’t matter.
It was a lesson most people learned much earlier; that even friendship could have an undisclosed shelf life. That loyalty and affection, so consuming and powerful, could dissipate like fog.
For some reason, I thought Victor could heal that wound better than anyone else. It's strange to think that this vampire, the embodiment of all my hatred, could act like a suture.
I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.
How could I alone have invented it or imagined it in my dream? Could my petty heart and fickle, trivial mind have risen to such a revelation of truth?
Events, once happened, lose reality, alter with a glance, a storm, a night. In time, the past never happened. But who could know? Who could know that the past is not as solid as this instant…
The couple trapped behind the glass could fool anyone. They looked content with each other; they looked happy. Their embrace looked warm, subtle and safe. But anybody outside the mirror world could see the truth.
No man, no power, can bind the action of wizardry or still the words of power. For they are the very words of Making, and one who could silence them could unmake the world.
It wasn't for children, seventh grade. You could read the stress of even entering the building in the postures of the teachers, the security guards. Nobody could relax in such a racial and hormonal disaster area.
Human beings used to be molecules which could do many, many different sorts of dances, or decline to dance at all --as they pleased. My mother could do the waltz, the tango, the rumba....
I felt, as I have often felt, that my failing the truth could have no bearing at all on the Truth itself, which could never conceivably be in any sense dependent on me or on anyone.
Is it possible to love someone so completely, so intensely, they could never die? To give them more than just your heart or your soul? What if you could give then the miracle of immortality?
In the world of the Machiguenga, sadness could be equated with anger, and anger was a perilous emotion, by which a foreigner could lose his life.
A brick could be used to decorate a house. And not just one brick, thousands could be stacked and affixed together and really make your house not only feel like a home, but less drafty too.
A brick could be used to keep yourself warm, and a blanket could be used in the construction of a house. But just like wearing your boxers on the outside of your pants, if you reverse them you get further in society.
A brick could be used to represent a memory. That way when you live in a brick house, you could be living in the past.
A brick could be used to keep you warm at night, in the same way that a blanket could be used to smother a lover while they sleep.
A brick could be used in a heart transplant operation. And for just $25,000 more dollars, that brick could be switched with a real or artificial heart.
A brick could be used to start a civil war. And then that same brick could be used to start building the country up again after everything is destroyed.
