Next door, there's an old man who lived to his nineties and one day passed away in his sleep. And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days and passed away. I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong.
I liked back in the sixties where you'd turn on the radio and go 'Oh that's Hendrix, that's Creedence Clearwater, that's The Doors, there's The Grass Roots, The Monkees, there's Big Brother.' You could just instantly hear it and tell. But in the eigh...
I had spent the day friendless, lonely and sad, a stranger to myself. After drowning the day on the sea shore, I walked back to my empty house on the deserted street. The moment I opened the door, the book on my table flipped its pages and said: "Fri...
The love of our neighbor is the only door out of the dungeon of self, where we mope and mow, striking sparks, and rubbing phosphorescences out of the walls, and blowing our own breath in our own nostrils, instead of issuing to the fair sunlight of Go...
Once my heart was captured, reason was shown the door, deliberately and with a sort of frantic joy. I accepted everything, I believed everything, without struggle, without suffering, without regret, without false shame. How can one blush for what one...
Now I'm just like everybody else, and it's so funny, the way monogamy is funny, the way someone falling down in the street is funny. I entered a revolving door and emerged as a human being. When you think of me is my face electronically blurred?
I think whenever we think of our hometowns, we tend to think of very specific people: with whom you rode on the school bus, who was your next door neighbor you were playing with, who your girlfriend was. It's always something very specific.
I remember being out here at the Sunset Marquis, and whoever knocked on the door, I would take that picture that I was writing and I would put that in the typewriter, so when I had the meeting, they would say: 'Oh, you're working on it right now?'
She was scrubbing furiously at a line of grease spots which led from the stove towards the door to the dining-room. That was where Henry had held the platter tilted as he carried the steak in yesterday. And yet if she had warned him once about that, ...
I am afraid of Mr. Powell. I am more afraid of him than I have ever been of shadows or the thunder or when you look through the little bubble in the glass of the window in the upstairs hall and all of the out-of-doors stretches and twists its neck.
My whole thing was, as much as I was inspired by what my parents do, and growing up on film sets, watching that made me really want to do that. I am my own person, and I think that the only thing with the Hemingway name is that it has gotten me in th...
If you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. Follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where y...
I tell young people that people aren't just going to flock to you as your mentors. You have to seek them out. It could be your next-door neighbor; it could be somebody upstairs from you, somebody down the block from you. An aunt or an uncle. Some rel...
When you've got four people to get dressed to get out the door you don't really spend a lot of time on yourself. But that's the way I roll anyway. I was never one to do my hair and make-up just to go to the market, so it's not that much different. If...
Col. Muska: [chasing Sheeta through the labyrinth] Sheeta, listen to me. Be reasonable! There's no way you can escape. Sheeta: [pounding on a door] Please! Open! Please! Col. Muska: No one can hear you. Only *I* can help you.
Jamal: At sixteen, I've seen more bodies than a mortician. Every time I step out my door I face the risk of being shot. To the rest of the world it's just another dead body on a street corner. They don't know that he was my friend.
Tommy DeVito: What the fuck you looking at? Come on. Make that coffee to go. Let's go. [Frankie mumbles something and goes to the door with the coffee pot in his hand] Tommy DeVito: What the fuck are you doing? It's a joke! A joke! Put the fucking po...
Kevin McCallister: [behind the dining room door] Oh no, I'm really scared! Harry: It's too late for you, kid; we're already in the house. We're gonna get ya! Kevin McCallister: OK, come and get me!
Metropolitan Police Inspector: [darkly] You don't want me to get the Chief Inspector down here, do you? Nicholas Angel: Yes, I would actually. Metropolitan Police Inspector: Very well. [to a man by the door] Metropolitan Police Inspector: Kenneth?
Jeffrey Pelt: You slammed the door on the General pretty hard, didn't you? Jack Ryan: That was not my intention. Jeffrey Pelt: Oh, yes, it was! He was patronizing you, and you stomped on him! And in my opinion, he deserved it!
Professor Henry Jones: I'm sorry about your head though. But I thought that you were one of them. Indiana Jones: Dad, they come in through the doors. Professor Henry Jones: Ha, good point.
