Sam the Lion: You see? This is what I get for bettin' on my own home town ballteam. I ought'a have better sense. Abilene: Wouldn't hurt to have a better home town.
Idi Amin: They take you to a tree and hang you by your skin. Each time you scream the evil comes out of you. Sometimes, it can take three days for your evil to be spent. Pull him up.
Nicholas Garrigan: I didn't want him to die though. Idi Amin: But you did it. Why? You want to know why? Nicholas Garrigan: Yes. Idi Amin: You did it because you love me.
Idi Amin: I am the fadder of this nation, Nicholas, and you have most grossly offended your father! Nicholas Garrigan: You're a child. That's what makes you so fuckin' scary.
Emperor Meiji: I have dreamed of a unified Japan. Of a country strong and independent and modern. We have railroads and cannon, Western clothing. But we cannot forget who we are. Or where we come from.
Algren: This is Katsumoto's sword. He would have wanted you to have it. He hoped with his dying breath that you would remember his ancestors who held this sword, and what they died for. May the strength of the Samurai be with you always.
Algren: [shouting] What the hell am I doing here? ['Bob' rushes up, about to draw his sword and kill Algren, but Katsumoto gestures for him to stop] Katsumoto: In spring the snows will melt and the passes will open. Until that time, you are here.
[Nobutada is shamed by Imperial Guards who cut off his top knot and take his swords, leaving him in a heap in the street] Algren: C'mon, I'll take you home. Nobutada: Jolly good.
Algren: I have been hired to suppress the rebellion of yet another tribal leader. Apparently, this is the only job for which I am suited. I am beset by the ironies of my life.
Khan: [quoting from Melville's Moby Dick] To the last, I will grapple with thee... from Hell's heart, I stab at thee! For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee!
[last lines] Mike Mageau: [after identifying Arthur Leigh Allen as his shooter] The last time I saw this face was July 4th, 1969. I am very sure that's the man who shot me.
The point of mythology or myth is to point to the horizon and to point back to ourselves: This is who we are; this is where we came from; and this is where we're going. And a lot of Western society over the last hundred years - the last 50 years real...
I also hear your president say that war is the means of last resort and I think he means that. I met him last autumn and he assured me that they wanted to come through and disarm Iraq by peaceful means, and that's what we are trying to do as hard as ...
The Professor noted two nymphs with strawberries on their heads, a DayGlo Amish lady, a mustachioed man in a rainbow apron. He wrote Saturday Night Fever, then crossed it out and wrote Drag Ball + Bollywood and underlined it twice.
The psycho-babble lavished on her by her mother in a prior life found her, whispering of trauma and coping, how this was not her fault and blaming herself at all was useless. She would eventually try to believe this, as soon as she was behind her loc...
My life edges out any sense of sanity I can have, and I come to realize there won't be a point where things can be ordinary again, or as ordinary as I would have them.
Aren’t all fairy tales based in fact? You yourself are supposed to be nothing more than a myth. Pandora’s box is a story parents read to their children at night,” she countered. “That means life itself is a fairy tale. Like the characters, we...
No matter how much individuals do through their own efforts, they cannot actively purify themselves enough to be disposed in the least degree for the divine union of the perfection of love. God must take over and purge them in that fire that is dark ...
But at sunset the clouds gathered again, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and steadily from a sky without wind, in a soft universal diffusion more confusing than the gusts and eddies of the morning. It seemed to be a par...
Because there is no challenge, there is no reason to work hard. And with no reason to work hard, we all have become lazy. Lazy people are like cancer. They spread. Before you know it, the entire country is destroyed.
My father never told us how the stories worked. He didn't reveal the layers, the nuggets of information, the fragments of truth and fantasy. He didn't need to -- because, given the right conditions, the stories activated, sowing themselves.
