Wolverine: Gotta get her out of there. Cyclops, can you hit it? Cyclops: The ring's moving too fast. Wolverine: Just shoot it! Cyclops: I'll kill her!
Senator Kelly: What the hell have you done to me? Magneto: Senator, this is pointless. Where would you go? Who would take you in now that your one of us?
Logan: [to Hank McCoy] Look kid, you and I are gonna be good friends. [punches Hank in the face] Logan: You just don't know it yet.
Hank McCoy: I probably shouldn't be asking this sort of thing... but in the future, do I make it? [pause] Logan: No... but we can change that, right?
[Shadowcat sends Bishop back in time just as the Sentinels turn up] Kitty Pryde: Too late, assholes!
[deleted scene] Raven: [to Charles] I don't blame Eric for trying to kill me. I would have done the same thing.
Logan: You have any good news? Kitty Pryde: Well, you don't really age so you'll pretty much look the same.
[Charles stumbles and grabs his head] Logan: You okay? Charles Xavier: [points at his legs] When this goes... this comes back! [points at his head]
When you say that I can go and make a movie, I feel like I'm one of the most fortunate men. I feel myself to be a fortunate man that I found something to do that I really love.
What I love about 'Mockingjay, Part 1' is that President Coin or Cressida could have easily been played by a man, and if you look at 'Interstellar,' the Anne Hathaway or Jessica Chastain roles would have been men years ago.
When Jesus then is with the multitudes, He is not in His house, for the multitudes are outside of the house, and it is an act which springs from His love of men to leave the house and to go away to those who are not able to come to Him.
Men pass in front of our eyes like butterflies, creatures of a brief season. We love them; they are brave, proud, beautiful, clever; and they die almost at once. They die so soon that our hearts are continually racked with pain.
I love 'The X-Men;' that was the first comic series that I was dedicated to, because I feel like you can pick your player. 'I'm the most like Gambit... or I'm totally a Storm.'
I've had years of psychiatry, and I ask about every six months - it's sort of like getting your oil checked - I ask, 'I'm not an actual narcissist, am I?' The learned men of psychiatry assure me that I meet none of the medical criteria.
When someone came to ask us for help, it was sacred. We did not even think twice. We helped them, even if we had only meagre means; we offered them arms, a little bit of money, and in occasion, men.
Like the winds that we come we know not whence and blow whither soever they list, the forces of society are derived from an obscure and distant origin. They arise before the date of philosophy, from the instincts, not the speculations of men.
When I first came to the House of Commons and walked out into the lobby, men sprang to their feet. I asked them to sit down since I'd come to walk around. I didn't want them doing me favours.
When I was growing up, my idea of a writer was someone like Sven Hassel, that mysterious Danish author who wrote thrillers about men clambering over walls and getting tangled in barbed wire.
Who knows for what we live, and struggle, and die? Wise men write many books, in words too hard to understand. But this, the purpose of our lives, the end of all our struggle, is beyond all human wisdom.
Winning times in the New York City Marathon have not dropped all that much over the years, but rather U.S. runners went backward. In 1983, there were 267 U.S. men who broke 2:20 in a marathon, and by 2000 that number was down to 27.
There may be a hundred thousand men in an army, who are all equally free; but they only are naturally most fit to be commanders or leaders, who most excel in the virtues required for the right performance of those offices.
