Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blending with the fiction, playing with the details, follows the outline of the adventures. It mingles with the characters, and it seems as if it were yourself palpitating beneath th...
She wanted to get some personal profit out of things, and she rejected as useless all that did not contribute to the immediate desires of her heart, being of a temperament more sentimental than artistic, looking for emotions, not landscapes.
Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from afar and that seems to express completely your most subtle feelings?
At last she sighed. "But the most wretched thing — is it not? — is to drag out, as I do, a useless existence. If our pains were only of some use to someone, we should find consolation in the thought of the sacrifice.
Has it ever happened to you," Léon went on, "to come across some vague idea of one's own in a book, some dim image that comes to you from afar, and as the completest expression of your own slightest sentiment?
You will do well to take advantage of Madame's short residence to get up your French a little... You will be glad of this, my dear, when you have reached France, where you will find they speak nothing else.
After all, hadn't she been the one to pursue him? And Madame Dupuy had done it with a vigor that most women would have been too ashamed to display.
Vous travaillez pour l'armee, madame?' (You are working for the army?), a Frenchwoman said to me early in the Vietnam war, on hearing I had three sons.
I admire your mustache madam, but I wonder, what’s for dessert?
[Offering Elizabeth his coat before putting her in the tower] Arundel: Madam, you are cold. Elizabeth: I do not need your pity. Arundel: Accept it, then, for my sake. Elizabeth: Thank you. I shall not forget this kindness.
Hermione: Harry, no way! You heard what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don't even know how to fly! [Harry ignores Hermione and he flies up] Hermione: What an idiot!
Harry Hart: I'm a Catholic whore, currently enjoying congress out of wedlock with my black Jewish boyfriend who works at a military abortion clinic. Hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon madam.
George Banks: I suggest you have this piano repaired. When I sit down to an instrument, I like to have it in tune. Mrs. Banks: But, George, you don't play. George Banks: Madam, that is entirely beside the point!
Max Von Mayerling: You see those offices up there? That was Madame's dressing room, the whole row. Joe Gillis: Didn't leave much for Wallace Reid. Max Von Mayerling: Oh, he had a big bungalow on wheels.
[last lines] Madame Souza: [voice over] Is that it, then? Is it over, do you think? What have you got to say to Grandma? [cut to Champion as an old man watching TV] Champion: I think that's probably it. It's over, Grandma.
I love playing 'Madame Vastra.' Although I do suffer, spending three-and-a-half hours in make-up every morning to have her lizard skin put on. I was so excited the first day when we did the make-up test, but after six hours, I was like, 'Can we finis...
Chip: Mama, there's a girl in the castle! Mrs. Potts: Now Chip, I won't have you making up such stories. Now into the tub. Chip: But mama! Featherduster: Madame! There is a girl in the castle! Chip: See! I told you.
[William has asked Murron to go riding with him in the rain] Mother MacClannough: In this? You're out of your mind! William Wallace: Oh, it's good Scottish weather, madam. The rain is falling straight down. Well, slightly to the side like.
I've written books as acts of discovery: things I need to know and that I need to touch. And it's very dangerous work to deal with the most toxic internal elements... I feel like Madame Curie at my computer. I feel like I should be hemorrhaging from ...
I’m a maker of ballads right pretty I write them right here in the street You can buy them all over the city yours for a penny a sheet I’m a word pecker out of the printers out of the dens of Gin Lane I’ll write up a scene on a counter - confes...
I deciced if I were ever to get into booze and women, my line would be, 'Excuse me, madam, but I would really love to bed and muss you. . . . Are you perchance free this evening?
