Little Girl 143: Hello. Who are you? Storm: Professor, we're in trouble! You have to stop Cerebro now! Little Girl 143: Who are you talking to? Storm: [halting Nightcrawler from advancing towards the child] Stop! Don't get close to her. Nightcrawler:...
The fool never undertakes little.
Great boast, little roast.
Much talk, little work.
Promise little and do a lot.
A little with quiet is the only diet.
I'm a little bit of a germophobe - not that bad!
I basically was a precocious little kid.
I would love a little bit of a change.
So many books, so little time.
Words are not just wind. Words have something to say. But if what they have to say is not fixed, then do they really say something? Or do they say nothing? People suppose that words are different from the peeps of baby birds, but is there any differe...
It's the strangest feeling at the end of pregnancy: you look down at this huge belly and try to imagine how some little person, whom you haven't even met, is going to emerge from it any day and completely change your lives. First, you wonder how this...
Brian Taylor: This is my day job. Some of you might know me as Brian or Taylor, but here I am Police Officer 2 Brian Taylor. This is where the forces of good prepare to fight the forces of evil. This is my partner, Officer Zavala. Mike Zavala: I'm on...
Brian: Want the head there, sweetheart? Come and get it! [Dwight jumps into the sewer, guns blazing] Brian: I coulda put a bullet in your ear just now, laddy, if I hadn't gone off and got me revolver all wet and useless. You got the drop on me love. ...
When you snatch happiness in little bits, fits and starts, and lose it, like me, you become coarse, little by little, you become hateful.
To all you parents out there, don't make your little girls, or little boys, so thirsty for love that they will want to drink water that will poison them.
I would certainly rather the industry not go broke, but if that's what it takes for everyone to acquire some values and lose that sense of entitlement, maybe a little belt-tightening wouldn't be so tragic.
Confession is good for the soul, they say. I'd imagine this is true. But my sins were too convoluted. And from the little I understand--too damning.
She fantasized sometimes too about killing him a little: a little poison in his pudding, a little flick-flick-flick with a fillet knife at his throat.
Why, we are just the same - I am only a little girl like you. It's just an accident that I am not you, and you are not me!
You will have five hundred million little bells, and I shall have five hundred million springs of fresh water...
