…is postmodernity the pastime of an old man who scrounges in the garbage-heap of finality looking for leftovers, who brandishes unconsciousnesses, lapses, limits, confines, goulags, parataxes, non-senses, or paradoxes, and who turns this into the g...
There's something about Michael J. Fox that I loved when he did all the '80s stuff. His way of performing all the physicality, which is why it's so tragic now, but the way he used his body so much as well, I loved.
He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.
Some Christians believe the harder that one thinks, the colder faith will grow. Augustine grew more brilliant as he grew more pious, more creative as he became more orthodox. His period of heresy was imitative, but his traditional Christianity took m...
General McChrystal had to go. Whatever his virtues as a strategist and commander, the 'Rolling Stone' interview fatally compromised his ability to represent the United States in dealing with allies and to act within the circle of people who must make...
I often heard about his cases and I often sat in on his trials. In the late 1960s when I was growing up I wanted to be a crusader like him but I didn't want to wear a suit and commute.
When I meet people, I no longer say "Hi, I'm Derek Landy, pleased to meet you." Now I say "Hi, I'm number one bestselling author Derek Landy. Worship me.
He’d have denied it to his dying breath but Derwent wasn’t as tough as he pretended to be. For the very small number of people he cared about, Derwent would give his all. It made him vulnerable, and every now and then that vulnerability showed.
What strikes me about Jesus is that he is a remarkably true person; he never changes his personality to fit in with whatever crowd he finds himself. He is simply himself, and he never plays to his audience.
Truman Capote famously claimed to have nearly absolute recall of dialogue and used his prodigious memory as an excuse never to take notes or use a tape recorder, but I suspect his memory claims were just a useful cover to invent dialogue whole cloth.
...we could think or feel as we wished toward the characters, or as the poet, discounting history, invited us to; we were the poet's guest, his world was his own kingdom, reached, as one of the poems told us, through the 'Ring of Words'...
It's not all Obama's fault: His plans to rebuild America's energy infrastructure have been hampered by the recession, and his efforts on global warming have been stymied by Tea Party wackos and weak-kneed Democrats in Congress.
Logan was her entire world and she was his. She could taste the raw honey and bits of bees still on his tongue. She enjoyed the sweet flavor and kept her promise of kissing him even though he was a bug-eating bear.
Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips, as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them he felt an unknown and timid preasure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor.
Walter: What's wrong with him? Garth: Well, a man's body may grow old, but inside his spirit can still be as young and as restless as ever. Garth: And him - in his day, he had more spirit than twenty men.
Cindy: [Cindy runs to the car while Dean saunters] Fuck! Give me the keys. I fucking want a divorce! [Dean pauses, sucks his ring finger, removes his ring and throws it into the bushes]
Truth is the silliest thing under the sun. Try to get a living by the Truth and go to the Soup Societies. Heavens! Let any clergyman try to preach the Truth from its very stronghold, the pulpit, and they would ride him out of his church on his own pu...
[a cowboy has his sock-feet on a table in the casino] Ace Rothstein: [to Sherbert] I don't give a shit who he's connected to. Tell him to take his fuckin' feet off the table. What's he think this is, a goddamn sawdust joint?
Sister Aloysius Beauvier: [about a boy who was sent home with a bloody nose] He's a fidgety boy. He will do anything to get out of his seat. He would set his foot on fire for half a day out of school.
Calvin Candie: [the library doors open revealing Calvin Candie, Stephen is sifting his brandy] What is the matter? Stephen: [swirling his brandy glass, looks up] Them motherfuckers ain't here to buy no mandingos. They's here for that girl.
Wind In His Hair: [in Lakota; subtitled] Dances with Wolves! I am Wind In His Hair. Do you see that I am your friend? Can you see that you will always be my friend?
