What is dying? I am standing on the seashore. A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object and I stand watching her Till at last she fades from the horizon, And someone at my side says, “She is gone!” Gone where? ...
All agree that, the first responsibility for the alleviation of poverty and distress and for the care of the victims of the depression rests upon the locality — its individuals, organizations and Government. It rests, first of all, perhaps, upon th...
The moment men begin to care more for education than for religion they begin to care more for ambition than for education. It is no longer a world in which the souls of all are equal before heaven, but a world in which the mind of each is bent on ach...
And when you are criticized, as you will be, remind your critics that you have the right to speak your mind. And if they shout you down, as they probably will, then inform them that since they insist on being asses, you will henceforth communicate wi...
Today the individual has become the highest form, and the greatest bane, of artistic creation. The smallest wound or pain of the ego is examined under a microscope as if it were of eternal importance. The artist considers his isolation, his subjectiv...
With modern technology it is the easiest of tasks for a media, guided by a narrow group of political manipulators, to speak constantly of democracy and freedom while urging regime changes everywhere on earth but at home. A curious condition of a repu...
I can't today," I said. "Maybe tomorrow?" "Can't tomorrow," said Quinn. "I have a family thing. I guess we're logistically star-crossed, Juliet." Sometimes Quinn calls me Juliet because of how we had to do that scene together, and whenever he does it...
I have not been nourished by English Literature. . . for the simple reason that I have never found much there in which to rest my heart (or heart and head together). I was brought up in the Classics, and first discovered the sensation of literary ple...
As is perhaps obvious, Morris Zapp had no great esteem for his fellow-labourers in the vineyards of literature. They seemed to him vague, fickle, irresponsible creatures, who wallowed in relativism like hippopotami in mud, with their nostrils barely ...
Sam: Large. I think I see one. Andrew Largeman: [crying] Shut up. Sam: Yeah, I do. Wait, wait, wait. We should save it or something. [runs to get a paper cup] Sam: Okay, don't move! Andrew Largeman: We could put it in my scrapbook if I had a scrapboo...
Nicholas Angel: I just want to be... good at what I do. Danny Butterman: You are good at what you do, you just need to switch off that big ol' melon of yours. Nicholas Angel: That's just it Danny, I don't think I know how. Danny Butterman: I can show...
Vincent Hanna: My life's a disaster zone. I got a stepdaughter so fucked up because her real father's this large-type asshole. I got a wife, we're passing each other on the down-slope of a marriage - my third - because I spend all my time chasing guy...
[in Portuguese] Jamie: Good evening. Mr. Barros? Mr. Barros: Yes? Jamie: I am here to ask your daughter for her hands in marriage. Mr. Barros: You want to marry my daughter? Jamie: Yes. Mr. Barros: [yelling toward the back of the house] Come here, th...
Driving instructor: It's okay. Normally you would not be going sixty-five down the wrong way of a one-way street. [a large semi truck appears speeding out of a tunnel towards the car. Stephanie screams, even Frank is terrified, but the unflappable dr...
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: Relinquishing junk. Stage one, preparation. For this you will need one room which you will not leave. Soothing music. Tomato soup, ten tins of. Mushroom soup, eight tins of, for consumption cold. Ice cream, vanilla, one large ...
Carl Fredricksen: [Carl, with his house high in the air, opens his door to see who knocked on it. Looking around, he spots Russell] Whaa! Russell: Hi, Mr. Fredricksen! It's me, Russell! Carl Fredricksen: What are you doing out here, kid? Russell: I f...
As I looked down at him, as I saw his yellow hair pressed against my coat, I had a vision of him from long ago, that tall, stately gentleman in the swirling black cape, with his head thrown back, his rich, flawless voice singing the lilting air of th...
The truthfulness of 'The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism' is in doubt largely because of uncertainty about its authorship, and, as we have seen, a nearly identical ambiguity surrounds the Appendix. The parallel is significant. Two ps...
A dear and long-time friend,... asked me, "Jack, how long does it usually take you to write a book?" I replied, "Of course it depends on the project and its requirements, each book has its own rules. But for a statement to the world at large, once I'...
And I loved you I loved you so There were times I forgot to breathe Waiting for the phone call For the sound of your voice Touching me places You couldn't touch For the miles between us. And I loved you Like a forest loves the spring Waiting for the ...
Often, when I have been feeling lonely, when a book as been thrust aside in boredom [...] I have lain back and stared at the shadows on the ceiling, wondering what life is all about [...] and then, suddenly, there is the echo of the swinging door, an...
