Ultron: Stark asked for a savior, and settled for a slave. The Vision: I suppose we're both disappointments. Ultron: [laughs] I suppose we are. The Vision: Humans are odd. They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and try to control what won't...
[Dr Cho encounters Ultron in her lab] Ultron: Scream, and all your staff die. I could have killed you earlier on, but I didn't. Dr. Helen Cho: You couldn't. Ultron: I didn't, because you have something I want. Your work on artificial tissue has been ...
For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the nor...
There's always the dinner rolls," said Will, pointing to a covered basket. "Though I warn you, they're as hard as stones. You could use them to kill black beetles, if any beetles bother you in the middle of the night.
a kind of emptiness existed in the center of my bagel; really it was just the hole that's in the middle of all bagels; 'i need to go read my blog to find out what my politics are
The Argentine tango isn't here to play nicely with the other children. The Argentine tango is here to seduce your women, spill things on your rug, and sneak out your bedroom window in the middle of the night.
Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled. I'd finally found something Eric did poorly.
I'm currently in the middle of a depression. I couldn't really tell you what set it off, but I think it stems from my cowardice, which confronts me at every turn.
After all, history is a type of fantasy. For all the primary source research, in the end, the past world the historian builds is as weird and remote from our own as Middle Earth or Narnia, yet oddly familiar.
Jesus is supposed to be the Alpha and the Omega, but in the Bible he's neither. He's stuck in the middle like the letter Q.
Do you realize that a middle-class couple, one archaeologist, one dolls' expert, can't move from their house because ancient spirits are blocking them in? It's a reasonable sort of day's experience, isn't it?
Everything changed, and eleven months later, here I was in the middle of the night with a gungho major, playing secret agent, hoping some Frenchie didn't put a bullet in my skull before I gave the Germans and Italians their chance.
Mom stood over the still thrashing ghost with the bat and brought it down on its head again and again. "Leave him alone, leave my family alone!" she screamed. "We are not going to die in a stupid gas station in the middle of nowhere!
I'm tired of feeling like I should be grateful when popular culture deigns to acknowledge the experiences of people who are not white, middle class or wealthy, and heterosexual.
Ah, well.” He smiled-another one of those devastatingly intoxicating smiles that did unreasonable things to her body temperature and respiration. With a nod and a respectful, “Ma’am,” he left her in the middle of the room. Feeling like she’...
First, I was so dazzled and besotted by India. People said the poverty was biblical, and I'm afraid that was my attitude, too. It's terribly easy to get used to someone else's poverty if you're living a middle-class life in it. But after a while, I s...
Largely this is a class thing - writers tend to be cosseted little middle-class kiddies who think that the world owes them a royalty cheque. But just doing it - being in your room for years on end, locked in your head, alone with invented ghosts - it...
I grew up in Los Angeles, and I was always fascinated by the La Brea Tar Pits. Right in the middle of the city, in an area called the Miracle Mile, for crying out loud, we have these eldritch ponds of dark, bubbling goo. And down in the muck, there'r...
Due to the failure of politics, which has become a process of middle-management, art has become one of the last open spaces to question core beliefs and to design a viable future. Art becomes an open space where we can ask fundamental questions about...
If the Mob was after you, the last thing you felt was alive. If the Mob was after you, it was only a matter of time before you were as dead as a doorknob. But standing outside in the middle of winter, with the world in a coma, she felt alive.
I can't help but laugh into my next sip of water. For the first time, mine doesn't seem so bad. "I don't know why you're fucking laughing. You have a girl's name and no middle name.
