Natasha Romanoff: Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But the Winter Solider was there. I was covering my engineer so he...
Steve Rogers: [after Natasha takes the flash drive Steve hid in a vending machine] Where is it? Natasha Romanoff: Safe. Steve Rogers: Do better! Natasha Romanoff: Where did you get it? Steve Rogers: Why would I tell you? Natasha Romanoff: Fury gave i...
Steve Rogers: Arlim Zola was a German scientist who worked with the Red Skull. He's been dead for years. Dr. Arnim Zola: [inside a machine] First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you, I have never been more alive! In 1972, I received a ter...
Sam Wilson: Look, whoever he used to be and the guy he is now, I don't think he's the kind you save. He's the kind you stop. Steve Rogers: I don't know if I can do that. Sam Wilson: Well, he might not give you a choice. He doesn't know you. Steve Rog...
Jasper Sitwell: Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers. Steve Rogers: You're right. It's not. It's hers. [Natasha throws Sitwell off the roof] Natasha Romanoff: Oh...
[With other poor black seniors, watching Chance on TV] Louise: It's for sure a white man's world in America. Look here: I raised that boy since he was the size of a piss-ant. And I'll say right now, he never learned to read and write. No, sir. Had no...
The state of North Carolina, Daisy, and John Wayne walked into a bar, and I shouted, “Duke!” and the bartender threw me out, because he was a Chapel Hill fan, and I was drunk.
I imagine I should have told it to you before? I love you, Sejal.I wish for you to become my wife.Recently I’ve also opened a shop in North Dakota and thinking that, just maybe, you love me too.
A world full of people who want to know what you will be, what is your skill and what is your purpose. In the north, if a man had come and said "What will you be? What will you do?" I would have laughed at this kind of person that lives all the time ...
The only bright spot in the entire evening was the presence of Kevin "Tubby" Matchwell, the eleven-year-old porker who tackled the role of Santa with a beguiling authenticity. The false beard tended to muffle his speech, but they could hear his chafi...
I damned myself for my earlier romanticism. That Croaker who had come north, so thoroughly bemused by the mysterious Lady, was another man. A stripling, filled with the foolish ignorances of youth. Yeah. Sometimes you lie to yourself just to keep goi...
Further north, I met a Siberian hermit who lived in the foothills of the Ural Mountains. His life’s passion was wrestling black bears ... in the nude (him not the bears). He did not know why he did it. All the hermit knew was that if he stopped wre...
So you know what mean when I say that I don't think anyone who falls in love has a choice. You're just pulled to that person like true north, whether it's good for you or bound to break your heart.
I preferred my brand of beauty where Norah was more beautiful than any bimbette, and Mom was beautiful whether sized extra-small or extra-large. Where Peony could look at herself in the mirror and murmur, wow, look at me. Just look at me.
There must be a few times in life when you stand at a precipice of a decision. When you know there will forever be a Before and an After...I knew there would be no turning back if I designated this moment as my own Prime Meridian from which everythin...
Wait!" What?" I lowered my cup hastily, wondering if maybe there was a stray hair, or worse, a newly boiled bug inside my cup. You got to smell it first. It's the proper way to cup coffee." Cup coffee?" Taste it." What? Are you the coffee police or s...
The Line welcomed rain and sun. Seeds germinated in mass graves, between skulls and femurs and broken pick handles, tendrils rose up alongside dog spikes and clavicles, thrust around teak sleepers and tibias, scapulas, vertebrae, fibulas and femurs.
There comes a moment when the things one has written, even a traveler's memories, stand up and demand a justification. They require an explanation. They query, 'Who am I? What is my name? Why am I here?
He came up straight to her father, whose hands he took and wrung without a word - holding them in his for a minute or two, during which time his face, his eyes, his look, told of more sympathy than could be put into words.
I am the mother that bore you, and your sorrow is my agony; and if you don't hate her, i do' Then, mother, you make me love her more. She is unjustly treated by you, and I must make the balance even.
Well, He had known what love was-a sharp pang, a fierce experience, in the midst of whose flames he was struggling! but, through that furnace he would fight his way out into the serenity of middle age,-all the richer and more human for having known t...
