Friend of mine, a smart journalist, had his iPad stolen. He couldn't help that - the thief broke into his house. But his private, personal data wasn't stolen, exactly. Donated, more like. He had no passcode set on the iPad.
I flew a full string of 35 combat missions over some of the most heavily defended targets in Europe. We were hitting Hitler's oil refineries, his tank factories, his aircraft factories, his railway yards. Those were our prime targets.
Obama lost his ability to push his agenda through Congress when he received what he himself called a 'shellacking' in the November 2010 elections. That shellacking was primarily the result of massive policy overreach when he had a Democratic Congress...
Buonaparte has often made his boast that our fleet would be worn out by keeping the sea and that his was kept in order and increasing by staying in port; but know he finds, I fancy, if Emperors hear the truth, that his fleet suffers more in a night t...
Charlie Chaplin: [leaving a screening of one of his movies during the Depression, Chaplin and his wife are surrounded by homeless people. They ask for his autograph and he obliges them. As they leave, he sighes] I wish they'd asked me for my money.
Jenny Curran: His name's Forrest. Forrest Gump: Like me. Jenny Curran: I named him after his daddy. Forrest Gump: He got a daddy named Forrest, too? Jenny Curran: You're his daddy, Forrest.
Forrest Gump: [Forrest Gump helping Lt Dan get to his hotel] Lieutenant Dan said he was living in a hotel and because he didn't have any legs he spent most of his time exercising his arms!
Ramadhir Singh: Every fucker's got his own movie playing inside his head. Every fucker is trying to become the hero of his imaginary film. As long as there are fucking movies in this country people will continue to be fooled.
Beaumont: Won't he hear us? Seaman Jones: Not if we stay in his baffles, Seaman Beaumont. Not if we stay in his baffles. Come up right behind his propellor and he'll be deaf as a post!
Duke: She had come back into his life like a sudden flame; blazing and streaming into his heart. Noah stayed up all night contemplating the certain agony he knew would be his if he were to lose her twice.
Ed McDonnough: We finally go out with decent people and you break his nose. That ain't too funny, Hi. H.I.: His kids seemed to think it was funny. Ed McDonnough: Well they're just kids.
Brendan Conlon: I popped his shoulder. Frank Campana: Relax. Breathe. Brendan Conlon: I heard it tear. Frank Campana: You popped his shoulder? Good. I want you to pop his other shoulder.
In our story logic which we're making up, if we're saying he's alive, then like a quadriplegic who's in bed he can move his head and shoulders, but he can't move his arms. If he could just turn on that power to his legs and arms, the nerves could get...
I worked with Steven Spielberg on 'AI,' and his level of preparation was extraordinary. He told me there was a time at the beginning when he was a bit more spontaneous and went over budget, and it absolutely wrecked his head. When you look at the pow...
Bluto: See if you can guess what I am now. [puts a scoop of mashed potatoes in his mouth and hits his cheeks with his fists and spits it out] Bluto: I'm a zit. Get it?
A child too, can never grasp the fact that the same mother who cooks so well, is so concerned about his cough, and helps so kindly with his homework, in some circumstance has no more feeling than a wall of his hidden inner world.
I am certain that a novelist is someone who attributes a different reality-value to the characters and events of his story than to those of 'real' life. A novelist is someone who confuses his own life with that of his characters.
A society that robs an individual of the product of his effort, or enslaves him, or attempts to limit the freedom of his mind, or compels him to act against his own rational judgment ... is not, strictly speaking, a society, but a mob held together b...
Those 40 or 50 national correspondents who had followed Kennedy since the beginning of his electoral exertions into the November days had become more than a press corps - they had become his friends and, some of them, his most devoted admirers.
Arise! Arise!! Arise!!! Christ beseeches you; Be born again, Tune-in to God; Meditate on His word; And be turned on, Talk to Him; Bask in His presence; And know Him, Be permeated with Him; And let your life’s aroma tell His story. 2 Corinthians 2:1...
His scent engulfed me - fresh night air and evergreen. I buried my face in the hollow beneath his jaw as he shoved his Light into me- a terrible force of the sort I'd never imagined, hungry for distraction, intoxicating to the point of addiction.
