It felt like I'd been playing second-string football for a long time, when, suddenly, I was playing in the Super Bowl. Even when 'Basic Instinct' was a hit, I still felt like I was running with that ball toward the end zone. It took awhile for me to ...
You know, at the end of the day, the only thing you have is trust and honor in this world. That's all you have. All you have is your reputation built on trust and your personal honor. When you don't have that anymore, well, you know, there you go. Tr...
Man in Line for Santa: Young man. Hey, kid! Just where do you think you're going? Ralphie: Going up to see Santa. Man in Line for Santa: The line ENDS here. It begins THERE. [Points to the very end of a very long line]
Zidler: You're dying, Satine. Satine: [long pause] Another trick, Harold? Zidler: The doctor told us. Satine: Marie? Marie: [silence] Satine: [singing to self] I was a fool to believe, a fool to believe. It all ends today, yes it all ends today.
Caden Cotard: Try to keep in mind that a young person playing Willie Loman thinks he's only pretending to be at the end of a life full of despair. But the tragedy is that we know that you, the young actor will end up in this very place of desolation.
My mother was all about unconditional love, and I don't think we give that to our patients a lot. At the end of the day, what they really need you to do is to look at them in the eye and say, 'I'm here for you. I'm going to make sure this works out.'
The downside to making movies at a gallop like we did with 'Wish You Were Here' is that we're shooting four or five scenes in a day, and it's very exhilarating, but you worry at the end of the day that you missed some details because you were moving ...
You always take a little bit back with you at the end of the day. I always put a little bit of myself into the characters, too. You find parallels, points of connection, things like that. But I'm not an actor who gets so incredibly haunted by my char...
Xander, there are two certainties in life--death and truth. They will both pursue you to your grave. There is no escaping them. But we run from them anyway in hopes that somehow we can slip by unnoticed. In the end, one or both of them catch up. Runn...
The meanings of life aren’t inherited. What is inherited is the mandate to make meanings of life by how we live. The endings of life give life’s meanings a chance to show. The beginning of the end of our order, our way, is now in view. This isn�...
The best ending ever, for a science fiction book - or any novel, now that I think about it - was in Rendezvous With Rama. You know that you're at the end of the book and yet, there is no resolution. Then he hits you with those last six words. Better ...
When you have an engagement, at least in my world, the world that I create for myself, an engagement doesn't begin when you hit the stage and end when you leave the stage. It begins when you hit the city limits, and it ends when you leave the city li...
I write fast. But it takes me a while to get going. It's very important for me to see my whole plot. I have to see the end first because I like a surprise in the end. Which is why I let characters and plot gestate in my mind.
I like work/life separation, not work/life balance. What I mean by that is, if I'm on, I want to be on and maximally productive. If I'm off, I don't want to think about work. When people strive for work/life balance, they end up blending them. That's...
Mmmm… stay.” Her voice was barely audible, as she grazed her lips against mine and her head fell back against the pillow into a deep sleep.
True love was about letting go. A daily choice. Knowing the worst about a person and sacrificing for them anyway. Choosing to love.
The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people.
Even though I knew, deep down, what she was trying to do, I couldn’t hate her. Even when she hurt me, I forgave her.
... hurt burrowed deeper than anything she'd ever felt, deep enough to change from the thing she felt to the thing she was.
The older a wizard grows, the more silent he becomes, like a woody vine growing over time to choke a garden path, deep and full of moss and snakes, running everywhere, impenetrable.
My dad had once told me, crimson-red deep in “the talk,” that with sons, all he had to worry about was one penis, but with a daughter, he had to worry about everyone else’s.
