I have become an adjective. There is something called a Rovian-style of campaigning and it's meant as an insult. One columnist said it consists mainly of throwing mud until it sticks. One prominent blogger described the elements of a textbook Rovian ...
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as s...
I would supplant the ox with the automobile and pave instead of plowing the fields. 1 have a theory that if a corn field were paved, leaving out a brick for each hill, it would increase the yield, do away entirely with the mud, and give the farmer pl...
Mud: Tom's had lives you'd never even know about. Grew up up north,went to Yale. For a long time he was a paid assassin for the CIA. Flew to Cuba in '63. He's killed more people than y'all probably ever met.
[Luke's ship sinks into the mud] Luke: We'll never get it out now! Yoda: So certain are you. Always with you what cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?
Tak: Do you know what people did in the old days when they had secrets they didn't want to share? They'd climb a moutain, find a tree, carve a hole in it, whisper the secret into the hole and cover it up with mud. That way, nobody else would ever lea...
[greets Bruce from the entryway of a private jet, seeing him for the first time after he left Gotham City seven years before to travel the world anonymously and train himself to fight criminals] Alfred Pennyworth: You look very fashionable. Apart fro...
Elwood: [the Mystery Woman sprays the tunnel with gunfire as Jake and Elwood dive for the ground] Who *is* that girl? Mystery Woman: Well Jake, you look just fine down there, slithering in the mud like vermin. Jake: [makes a reassuring gesture to Elw...
There are moments, such as the one that oppresses me now, when I feel my own self far more than I feel external things, and everything transforms into a night of rain and mud where, lost in the solitude of an out-of-the-way station, I wait interminab...
Sometimes I hate him. When he does the dishes, he shakes off each one before setting it in the drying rack. Water flies everywhere. A couple of drops always hit me in the face. I have to leave the room to avoid smashing a plate against his head.
Writing from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I've forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?
These clever, amoral, inventive, destructive men, single-minded, selfish, emotionally cool, coolly attractive. I think I preferred them to the love of Jesus. They were so necessary, and not only to me. Without them we would still be living in mud hut...
I didn't even notice that my shoes were full of mud by the time I reached the rocky shore. There was ragged yellow police tape tied to some branches, dancing in the wind. It was as if the tape was waving, welcoming me back to place where I would have...
And also, one is a mother in order to understand the inexplicable. One is a mother to lighten the darkness. One is a mother to shield when lightning streaks the night, when thunder shakes the earth, when mud bogs one down. One is a mother in order to...
What I love is how seamless everything is. You walk throw a forest and come out in a village; and there’s no difference, no division. You aren’t in nature one minute and in civilization the next. The houses are made out of mud and stone and wood,...
I give thanks for the fact that I can get this stick with a bit of steel nib on the end, dip it in some black carbon stuff, and draw on paper. Now, people did it the same way 2,000 years ago. And there's something lovely about that play, and making m...
My husband is such a healthy eater. Except when it comes to sweets. He never consumes anything except fruit until noon. And then from noon on he might have some brown rice and some tofu, and then, come eight or nine at night, he orders three mud-pie ...
To drown in treacle is just as unpleasant as to drown in mud. People today are in danger of drowning in information; but because they have been taught information is useful, they are more willing to drown than they need be. If they could handle infor...
Lisa: [talking to townsman] Famous for your mud? How's your Chinese food? Vinny Gambini: You just keep asking about Chinese food. You gotta let everybody know you're a tourist? Lisa: Yeah well what are you, a fucking world traveler?
Ray Cash: Mister big shot, mister pill poppin' rock star. Who are you to judge, you ain't got nothin', big empty house, nothin', children you don't see, nothin', big ol' expensive tractor stuck in the mud, nothin'.
Her gaze travels back to the lie twisted in a tempest of mud and blood. She witnesses the culmination of her recklessness through a curved lens. Absorbed in life uncoiling, unaware of the world beyond this ridge. His light hair, darkened by rain. His...