I felt most beautiful on the red carpet in Givenchy's sheer lace dress at a dinner hosted by Givenchy in honor of Marina Abramovich at the closing of her Museum of Modern Art retrospective, 'The Artist is Present', in 2010. It was the first time I ha...
The sun sets, the strange clouds glowing eerily like a full moon laced with arsenic and occult warnings. Eternity stretches out her mocking red carpet, hinting at the long lonely walk of regret I have ahead of me.
I’d heard you were dead.” "I heard you wear a red lace corset,” I said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t believe every bit of nonsense that gets rumored about.
Language does not always have to wear a tie and lace-up shoes. The object of fiction isn't grammatical correctness but to make the reader welcome and then tell a story … to make him/her forget, whenever possible, that he/she is reading a story at a...
He greatly valued his possessions, chiefly because they were his, and derived genuine pleasure from contemplating a painting, a statuette, a rare lace curtain - no matter what - after he had bought it and placed it among his household gods.
Religion reminds me of a lace condom. While lovingly crafted, it’s not designed for pleasure; unless inflated with fervour, it collapses; one size does not fit all; and no matter how many times you dunk it in holy water, it will not prevent misconc...
I grew up on a suburban street with lace curtains and dull neighbours, so I made up stories to tell my friend, in which they became serial killers and burglars. She told her mother, who then told mine.
I think I've still got a bit of a sado-masochistic streak in me, because if I'm not going to be restricted by corsets and covered in lace, then I still wind up wearing an ape-mask over my face. I do wonder how I get myself in these situations!
I was Lady Gaga way before her time. I had a wee kettle for a handbag. Didn't everyone, at some point? One of the teachers used to call me Dame Flora Robson because I had this big, long Victorian skirt. And I wore a Peruvian hat. It was the 1980s - p...
George Carlin is kind of my template now because George Carlin before was straight laced regular comic and he had short hair, a tie, suit, nightclub guy. Then he said screw it, let his hair grow, just started telling what he thought was the truth. So...
[last lines] Mortimer Brewster: No, no. I'm not a Brewster. I'm the son of a sea-cook! Ha! Ha! Chaaaaarrrge! [he runs off across the cemetary] Cab Driver: And I'm not a cab driver, I'm a coffee pot!
Aunt Martha: For a gallon of elderberry wine, I take one teaspoon full of arsenic, then add half a teaspoon full of strychnine, and then just a pinch of cyanide. Mortimer Brewster: Hmm. Should have quite a kick.
Teddy Brewster: [showing Einstein a photo] This is the picture I was telling you about, General. Here we are, both of us. President Roosevelt and General Goethals. That's me, General, and that's you. Dr. Einstein: My how I've changed.
[Mortimer has just been talking to his aunts but was interrupted by the phone ringing. He now hangs it up] Mortimer Brewster: Now, where was I? Twelve... *TWELVE*? [He runs back to talk to his aunts again]
Jonathan Brewster: We're moving the car behind the house. You'd better get to bed. Martha Brewster: The car is alright where it is until morning. Jonathan Brewster: I don't want to leave it in the street. That might be against the law.
Jonathan Brewster: [threatening Mortimer] If you tell O'Hara what's in the window seat, I'll tell him what's in the cellar. Mortimer Brewster: Cellar? Jonathan Brewster: There's an elderly gentleman down there who seems to be very dead.
Martha Brewster: [Mortimer is about to leave, but has Mr. Witherspoon's hat on] Hmm! Hmm! Mortimer Brewster: What, hmm hmm? Martha Brewster: The hat! Mortimer Brewster: [Notices hat and throws it on the ground] Argh! [slams door]
In hip hop, it's a lot more about lacing a hot track. I start it, I help mix it, I help write it, I help produce it, I cut the person's vocals. I'm involved from the beginning to the end of a song. I'm not just giving someone a beat, you know?
As the silence returned, I sat back and felt the tension ease away; I hadn’t even known I was tense. A few moments passed and once again the cycling fan laced in with the clanging chains and mixed with the rumbling mower and the buzzing insects.
L shot Maki a disappointed look. But soon he forgot everything when Misa Amane appeared onstage. Enraptured he began to cheer with the girls in black lace and frilly skirts.
Lacing my fingers through his, I studied them. His fingers were so much longer than mine, and I envisioned what those fingers could do. And how long they would take to do it before they sent me over the edge. - Lacey
