Sugar: [pouring bourbon into paper cup] Turn the lights on. Daphne: No lights, we don't want anyone to know we're having a party. Sugar: But I might spill some. Daphne: So spill it! Spills, thrills, laughs, and games. This may even turn out to be a s...
Kyle Reese: All right, listen. The Terminator's an infiltration unit: part man, part machine. Underneath, it's a hyper-alloy combat chassis, microprocessor-controlled. Fully armored; very tough. But outside, it's living human tissue: flesh, skin, hai...
[first lines] [in German, using English subtitles] Damiel: [voiceover] When the child was a child, it walked with its arms swinging. It wanted the stream to be a river, the river a torrent, and this puddle to be the sea. When the child was a child, i...
Dick: When I was a kid, I used to see men go off on this kind of jobs... and not come back. When they did, they were wrecks. Their hair had turned white and their hands were shaking like palsy! You don't know what fear is. But you'll see. It's catchi...
Sally Albright: The first date back is always the toughest, Harry. Harry Burns: You only had one date. How do you know it's not going to get worse? Sally Albright: How much worse can it get than finishing dinner, having him reach over, pull a hair ou...
Cecilia Tallis: [Referring to Paul Marshall] I suppose he's what you might call "eligible." Leon Tallis: Rather. Cecilia Tallis: He certainly seems to think he's the cat's pajamas. Which is odd, considering he has pubic hair growing out of his ears. ...
[an additional scene from the dvd, at Stefan's hair salon] Stefan Vanderhoof: When I started here all there was was lampshade warehouses and leather bars, the serious leather bars where you wouldn't get in unless you had a rubber ball stuffed in your...
What was desire anyway, when examined in the clear light of day? Was it the way a woman searched for her clothes in the morning, or the manner in which a man might watch her sit before the mirror and comb her hair? Was it a pale November dawn, when i...
Suddenly he caught his reflection in the mirror behind her. His face was twisted into a dark scowl, and he was standing there naked, with a boner, and another man’s business card in his hand. He looked like a dick.
What you are or where you came from is not important. It is who you are and the choices you make, that determine who you will become. If you can look inward and be satisfied, the opinions of others should melt away.
Humour is, in fact, a prelude to faith; and laughter is the beginning of prayer … Laughter is swallowed up in prayer and humour is fulfilled by faith.
Taken slowly, or mindfully, even eating an orange or a bowl of soup, or a small piece of dark chocolate for that matter, can take on the flavor or prayer.
Raven briefly pondered the phrase, "staring down the barrel of a gun". It wasn't really that accurate, he decided. After all, it was too dark to see any features down a barrel, only a black circle at the end of it.
Ignorance is king. Many would not profit by his abdication. Many enrich themselves by means of his dark monarchy. They are his Court, and in his name they defraud and govern, enrich themselves and perpetuate their power.
Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods. Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt. But there’s music in us. Hope is pushed down but the angel flies up again taking us with her.
Here, are the stiffening hills, here, the rich cargo Congealed in the dark arteries, Old veins That hold Glamorgan's blood. The midnight miner in the secret seams, Limb, life, and bread. -
She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she kept her convoluted and confused thoughts to herself. He was her light in the darkness, but she was unsure if it was actual love or a form of Stockholm syndrome.
I, while the gods laugh, the world's vortex am; Maelström of passions in that hidden sea Whose waves of all-time lap the coasts of me; And in small compass the dark waters cram. -
You like this darkness. You like learning me by feel.” Feeling very bold indeed, she nuzzled at him until she found his mouth with her own. “I like it too.
Mercia wasn’t a little-in-love sort of man. He was mad, dark passion, sweeping emotion, and complete loss of reason, with his gaunt male beauty, his wealth and power, and his haunted past.
And the Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
