Adriana: Well, good luck with your book and your wedding Gil: Thanks, I think you would like Inez she has a, a very sharp sense of humour and attractive, I wouldn't say that we agree on everything Adriana: But the important things Gil: Yeah, or actua...
Max Bialystock: Don't you see, darling Bloom, glorious Bloom? It's so simple. STEP ONE: We find the worst play ever written, a surefire flop. STEP TWO: I raise a million bucks. Lots of little old ladies out there. STEP THREE: You go back to work on t...
[Apollo is looking thru a book of Philadelphia fighters] Jergens: What exactly are you looking for Apollo? Apollo Creed: This is who I'm looking for. The Italian Stallion. Jergens: Rocky Balboa? Never heard of him. Apollo Creed: Look it's the name ma...
Hoffy: They ought to be under the barbed wire soon. Shapiro: Looks good outside. Animal: I hope they hit the Danube before dawn. Price: They've got a good chance. The longest night of the year. Duke: I'll bet they make it to Friedrichshaven. Animal: ...
Alejandro 'Jano' Montes de Oca: I didn't know you want to be a writer. What are you going to write about, "fine boys"? Tenoch: No, about faggots like you. Alejandro 'Jano' Montes de Oca: Well, let me tell you that there is a big difference between wr...
[first lines] Narrator: On September 3rd 1973, at 6:28pm and 32 seconds, a bluebottle fly capable of 14,670 wing beats a minute landed on Rue St Vincent, Montmartre. At the same moment, on a restaurant terrace nearby, the wind magically made two glas...
Real Toby: So, how do you cope with loneliness, Harvey? Real Harvey: Uh, did I say I watch television? Real Toby: Yeah. You mentioned you watch TV, you listen to your jazz records, you read, you write. You do your stick figures so you could plan for ...
Gerben Kuipers: You met that Muntze on the train, right? And he liked you? Hans Akkermans: Liked her...? He fell for her! Rachel Stein aka Ellis de Vries: He just showed me his stamp collection. Gerben Kuipers: How far would you go with him? For Tim ...
Pamela Landy: What? Ward Abbott: I know how you're feeling. You lost two men in Berlin and you want it to mean something, but nothing Bourne gives you will bring your men back. Nothing in those files makes their sacrifice worthwile. You have to let g...
What madness, to love a man as something more than human! I lived in a fever, convulsed with tears and sighs that allowed me neither rest nor peace of mind. My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I fou...
In the language of the day it is customary to describe a certain sort of book as “escapist” literature. As I understand it, the adjective implies, a little condescendingly, that the life therein depicted cannot be identified with the real life wh...
The English major is, first of all, a reader. She's got a book pup-tented in front of her nose many hours a day; her Kindle glows softly late into the night. But there are readers and there are readers. There are people who read to anesthetize themse...
The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain There it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of a mountain. He breathed its oxygen, Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table. It reminded him how he had needed A place to go to in ...
In the middle of a novel, a kind of magical thinking takes over. To clarify, the middle of the novel may not happen in the actual geographical centre of the novel. By middle of the novel I mean whatever page you are on when you stop being part of you...
His body was tubby but his arms apparently couldn’t understand that, for they were long and scrawny. From his brow to an inch below his eyes, his nose turned up; from there on, down. His short upper lip slanted sharply toward his tonsils, which had...
... We are Nephilim; we fight our own battles." "That's not precisely true, is it?" said a velvety voice. It was Magnus Bane, wearing a long and glittering coat, multiple hoops in his ears, and a roguish expression. Clary had no idea where he'd come ...
The personal inevitably trumps the political, and the erotic trumps all: We will remember that Cleopatra slept with Julius Caesar and Mark Antony long after we have forgotten what she accomplished in doing so, that she sustained a vast, rich, densely...
O night, O sweetest time, though black of hue, with peace you force all the restless work to end; those who exalt you see and understand, and he is sound of mind who honours you. You cut the thread of tired thoughts, for so you offer calm in your moi...
We can't stop reading. Compulsively we find ourselves reading significance into dreams (we construct a science upon it); into tea-leaves and the fall of cards. We look up at the shifting vapours in the sky, and see faces, lost cities, defeated armies...
Over the years I'd lodged him in the permanent past, my pluperfect lover, put him on ice, stuffed him with memories and mothballs like a hunted ornament confabulating with the ghost of all my evenings. I'd dust him off from time to time and then put ...
And all at once the heavy night Fell from my eyes and I could see, -- A drenched and dripping apple-tree, A last long line of silver rain, A sky grown clear and blue again. And as I looked a quickening gust Of wind blew up to me and thrust Into my fa...
