Carlito: [voiceover and closing narration] Sorry boys, all the stitches in the world can't sew me together again. Lay down... lay down. Gonna stretch me out in Fernandez funeral home on Hun and Ninth street. Always knew I'd make a stop there, but a l...
I wanted to be on 'Saturday Night Live' since I was ten.
'Saturday Night Live' was the joy of my life.
If it weren't for The Groundlings, I would never be on Saturday Night Live.
Better a night full of anger than a night full of repentance.
Good night! Good night! Far flies the light; But still God's love Shall shine above, Making all bright, Good night! Good night!
'Saturday Night Live' is live television. Nothing can compare to that.
If it comes back, I think that Friday night is not a good night to be on.
On any given night - there are nights that you feel better. There are nights that you are vocally better. There are nights that you are not as vocally good. No question about it.
We were big Saturday Night Live and Eddie Murphy fans.
I had a dream about you last night. We stopped telling each other about our dreams when we realized we were still inside them.
I had a dream about you last night. We went to the store cupboard to make out, but we ended up sharing our pain and then crying together. We wasn't prepared for this level of intimacy.
I had a dream about you last night. Eons ago, we created a Universe, then sat back and watched miniature versions of ourselves try to make all the same mistakes we did.
I watched him suck on the bag and I shivered involuntarily at the sudden memory of Jameson’s fangs sliding into my neck. I vividly remembered the instant feeling of ecstasy that overtook my body last night when he fed from me and the intense orgasm...
He was the most wickedly handsome creature she had ever seen in all her days. His hair was black as night, his stature large, his muscles were etched with precision into his smooth skin, every last ripple chiseled into wicked perfection.
I don't want to die, but I don't want to be the only one to live, either. When I was sitting alone last night, I kind of figured maybe that's how Jesus felt.
There isn't so much to be afraid of, out there. I can remember thinking it was funny to find that out, on the last night of my life; I'd spent the rest of it being afraid of everything.
Saigon in utter darkness this last night of the war. A gestating monster. Her letter to Linh had been simple: I love you more than life, but I had to see the end.
I’d decided last night, and strengthened my resolve this morning, to have eyes for no man but Jesus. If intimacy was really what He desired most, then I desired it too. I felt strangely free from life as I had known it…
I had a hot date last night. Things were going well so I took her back to her house, dropped her off, and went home to masturbate.
Rather, that rigidity had simply been given sporadic spots of wrath, coupled with the sprinkling of secrets, and placed in a cold corner to slowly stew and starve––leaving it no choice but to eventually break through with blooms of fury. And on t...
