There are map people whose joy is to lavish more attention on the sheets of colored paper than on the colored land rolling by. I have listened to accounts by such travelers in which every road number was remembered, every mileage recalled, and every ...
A writer out of loneliness is trying to communicate like a distant star sending signals. He isn't telling, or teaching, or ordering. Rather, he seeks to establish a relationship with meaning, of feeling, of observing. We are lonesome animals. We spen...
One of the few things left in the world, aside from the world itself, that sadden me every day is an awareness that you get upset if Boo Boo or Walt tells you you're saying something that sounds like me. You sort of take it as an accusation of piracy...
Love?” Michael smiled down at his hands. “Love, real love, is being seen. Being known. Knowing the ugliest part of someone, and loving them anyway. And . . . I guess I think two people in love become something else, something more than the sum...
The temptation is to make an idol of our own experience, to assume our pain is more singular than it is. Experience means nothing if it does not mean beyond itself: we mean nothing unless and until our hard-won meanings are internalized and catalyzed...
Your corn is ripe today; mine will be so tomorrow. 'Tis profitable for us both, that I should labour with you today, and that you should aid me tomorrow. I have no kindness for you, and know you have as little for me. I will not, therefore, take any ...
It looks like fallen petals, and it looks like rain. It looks like the sounds the birds make at dawn. It looks like the aisle of grocery stores when a song I love suddenly begins to play overhead, and I cannot help but dance a little dance. It looks ...
Dogs are minor angels, and I don't mean that facetiously. They love unconditionally, forgive immediately, are the truest of friends, willing to do anything that makes us happy, etcetera. If we attributed some of those qualities to a person we would s...
There's a man who is my brother, I just don't know his name, But I know his home and family, Because I know we feel the same, And it hurts me when he's hungry, Or when his children cry, I too am a father, That little one is mine It's about time we be...
Bagheera: [to Baloo while Mowgli sleeps after they save him from King Louie] Mowgli seems to have man's ability to get into trouble, and your influence hasn't been exactly... Baloo: Shh! [softly] Baloo: Keep it down! You're gonna wake little buddy. H...
[Baloo has told Mowgli that he has to take him back to the man-village and Mowgli runs off. Baloo calls for him, but only Bagheera answers] Bagheera: And now what's happened? Baloo: You're not gonna believe me, Bagheera, but look. Now I used the same...
Su-Chin: I'm having a little trouble concentrating. Juno MacGuff: Oh well I could sell you some of my Adderall if you want. Su-Chin: No thanks I'm off pills. Juno MacGuff: That's a wise choice because I knew this girl who like had this crazy freak ou...
Delia: Charles, I will not stop living and breathing art just because you need to relax. Charles: Ha. Delia: I'm here with you. I will live with you in this hellhole, but I must express myself. If you don't let me gut out this house and make it my ow...
Daniel: She had these little stubby wings, like she could've glued them on, you know, like I'm gonna believe she's a fairy. So she said, "I'll prove it." So she reaches into her backpack and she pulls out this invisible cloak and she ties it around m...
Sweet Ghost Girl: She spied on our lives through the little doll's eyes... Ghost Boy: ...and saw that we weren't happy. Tall Ghost Girl: So she lured us away with treasures and treats... Sweet Ghost Girl: And games to play. Ghost Boy: Gave all that w...
Lord Victor Quartermaine: I know your little secret, Pesto. I know exactly what's going on. Wallace: Your Lordship... Lord Victor Quartermaine: Oh, yes. You think you can pilfer my filly, don't you? You think you can con an innocent woman out of her ...
Frank Costello: Good day, father. Older Priest: Good day, Francis. Frank Costello: You recall our chat? Little boys. Sucking on their peckers, etc... and so forth. I am as God made me. Is that your rationale? May I remind you - in this archdiocese, G...
Sister Colleen: If Matt dies, guess who he'll be buried next to? Sister Helen Prejean: Who's the last person to die? Sister Colleen: Sister Celestine. Sister Helen Prejean: Oh Lord. Sister Colleen: You remember when that sweet little girl in the conv...
Elliot: But, look, you can't tell. Not even Mom. Gertie: Why not? Elliot: Because, uh, grown-ups can't see him. Only little kids can see him. Gertie: Give me a break! Elliot: [Transylvanian accent] Well, do you know what's going to happen if you do t...
Patrick: You know that girl we did last week? The one with the potatoes. Stan: That girl? Yeah, that's this guy's girl. Patrick: Yeah. Stan: Right... Was. Took care of that. Patrick: Well uh, I kind of fell in love with her that night. Stan: What? Yo...
[Clementine comes in drunk and collapses on the couch. Joel has been sitting up and reading; his voice is angry] Joel: It's 3 o'clock. Clementine: I kinda sorta wrecked your car. Joel: You were driving drunk. It's pathetic. Clementine: I was a little...
