I was at the end of the studio system so when I walked into movies, I had a magnificent suite in which I had a living room and a kitchen and a complete makeup room. I had everything just for me. With the independents, you're kind of roughing it, lite...
Beast: I'll show you to your room. Belle: My room? But I thought... Beast: Do you wanna stay in the tower? Belle: No. Beast: Then follow me.
I have found that so many directors and producers in the room say nothing, and this can be deadly. It's very difficult to audition for comedy in the vacuum of a small room, but it's the only way most do it.
One can still say that quantum mechanics is the key to understanding magnetism. When one enters the first room with this key there are unexpected rooms beyond, but it is always the master key that unlocks each door.
When a woman enters a room, her presence should make them feel some type of way; when she exits the room, she should leave some type of look on their face.
In some ways, we will always be different. In other ways, we will always be the same. There is always room to disagree and blame, just as there is always room to take a new perspective and empathize. Understanding is a choice.
There are confirmed stories of people who can break instruments and cause them to fail by walking in a room. I'm the opposite - I can walk into a room and something will work better than it is supposed to.
I crawled back to bed, knowing I was done for. Hours later, the phone in our room started ringing. It was George. He was not happy. "Room 312. Now!" he shouted. Bouldy got up. I tried to pull myself together, splashing my face with water and hauling ...
My belief is that if we live another century or so — I am talking of the common life which is the real life and not of the little separate lives which we live as individuals — and have five hundred a year each of us and rooms of our own; if we ha...
But now she could not bear the way she sounded. She was not a person anyone could love. ... And thus fled to her room. There she wept, bitterly, an ugly sound punctuated by great gulps. She could not stop herself. She could hear his footsteps in the ...
While Elstir, at my request, went on painting, I wandered about in the half-light, stopping to examine first one picture, then another. Most of those that covered the walls were not what I should chiefly have liked to see of his work, paintings in wh...
Vincent Gambini: Okay, you're helping. We'll use your pictures. Ah! These *are* gonna be - you know, I'm sorry, these are going to be a help. I should have looked at these pictures before. I like this, uh, this is our first hotel room, right? That'll...
Gossie McKee: What the hell's Ray doin' up there? Marlene: Auditionin' for you Gossie. Gossie McKee: He ain't no good without me. Marlene: How'd you and the 'Bama like to do a week here at the Chair. I know a good bass player. Nice jazz trio can scor...
Martin thought of the iron El trestles winding and stretching across the city, of department store windows and hotel lobbies, of electric elevators and street-car ads, of the city pressing its way north on both sides of the great park, of dynamos and...
Sam Loomis: You never did eat your lunch, did you? Marion Crane: I better get back to the office. These extended lunch hours give my boss excess acid. Sam Loomis: Why don't you call your boss and tell him you're taking the rest of the afternoon off? ...
One wrong move, one bad rumor, one mistake, and it's social death row. I'm the latest to be sentenced. Move out of the way, everyone. Dead girl walking. -Riley
Fenworth owned a world-famous library. More rooms held books than beds. Pillows stuffed in niches and comfortable chairs scattered throughout each room offered abundant paces to curl up and read.
But it was not the room’s disorder which was frightening; it was the fact that when one began searching for the key to this disorder, one realized that it was not to be found in any of the usual places. For this was not a matter of habit or circums...
It was some time since I had gone to sleep in the same room with a girl. Of course, the room was large and reasonably well-lighted, and the girl had other things than me on her mind.
That somehow dreams are a blurred line between here and there, like a meeting room in a prison. You’re both in the same room, yet on different sides and really, in different worlds.
The only way I’ll play beer pong is if the room was a sterile room, the table was stainless steel sprayed down with disinfectant, the ball brand new, and everybody playing wore gloves and hairnets underneath their space suits.
