Ip Man: [hits Lei] Traitor! Captain Lei Chiu: Why am I a traitor? Their deaths have got nothing to do with me. I'm just an interpreter. I need to scrape a living too! Ip Man: Scrape a living? You watch your countrymen get beaten to death. Where's you...
Adriana: Well, good luck with your book and your wedding Gil: Thanks, I think you would like Inez she has a, a very sharp sense of humour and attractive, I wouldn't say that we agree on everything Adriana: But the important things Gil: Yeah, or actua...
[Apollo is looking thru a book of Philadelphia fighters] Jergens: What exactly are you looking for Apollo? Apollo Creed: This is who I'm looking for. The Italian Stallion. Jergens: Rocky Balboa? Never heard of him. Apollo Creed: Look it's the name ma...
Hoffy: They ought to be under the barbed wire soon. Shapiro: Looks good outside. Animal: I hope they hit the Danube before dawn. Price: They've got a good chance. The longest night of the year. Duke: I'll bet they make it to Friedrichshaven. Animal: ...
Alejandro 'Jano' Montes de Oca: I didn't know you want to be a writer. What are you going to write about, "fine boys"? Tenoch: No, about faggots like you. Alejandro 'Jano' Montes de Oca: Well, let me tell you that there is a big difference between wr...
[first lines] Narrator: On September 3rd 1973, at 6:28pm and 32 seconds, a bluebottle fly capable of 14,670 wing beats a minute landed on Rue St Vincent, Montmartre. At the same moment, on a restaurant terrace nearby, the wind magically made two glas...
Real Toby: So, how do you cope with loneliness, Harvey? Real Harvey: Uh, did I say I watch television? Real Toby: Yeah. You mentioned you watch TV, you listen to your jazz records, you read, you write. You do your stick figures so you could plan for ...
Gerben Kuipers: You met that Muntze on the train, right? And he liked you? Hans Akkermans: Liked her...? He fell for her! Rachel Stein aka Ellis de Vries: He just showed me his stamp collection. Gerben Kuipers: How far would you go with him? For Tim ...
Pamela Landy: What? Ward Abbott: I know how you're feeling. You lost two men in Berlin and you want it to mean something, but nothing Bourne gives you will bring your men back. Nothing in those files makes their sacrifice worthwile. You have to let g...
What madness, to love a man as something more than human! I lived in a fever, convulsed with tears and sighs that allowed me neither rest nor peace of mind. My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I fou...
In the language of the day it is customary to describe a certain sort of book as “escapist” literature. As I understand it, the adjective implies, a little condescendingly, that the life therein depicted cannot be identified with the real life wh...
The English major is, first of all, a reader. She's got a book pup-tented in front of her nose many hours a day; her Kindle glows softly late into the night. But there are readers and there are readers. There are people who read to anesthetize themse...
The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain There it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of a mountain. He breathed its oxygen, Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table. It reminded him how he had needed A place to go to in ...
In the middle of a novel, a kind of magical thinking takes over. To clarify, the middle of the novel may not happen in the actual geographical centre of the novel. By middle of the novel I mean whatever page you are on when you stop being part of you...
unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, it was never meant to be any other way– and when the death struggle begins the last thing I wish to see is a ring of human faces hovering over me– better just my old friend...
I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a...
When the weather's nice, my parents go out quite frequently and stick a bunch of flowers on old Allie's grave. I went with them a couple of times, but I cut it out. In the first place, I don't enjoy seeing him in that crazy cemetery. Surrounded by de...
Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn't get soaked to the skin or anything, but I stuck around on the benc...
Bloomsbury lost Fry, in 1934, and Lytton Strachey before him, in January 1932, to early deaths. The loss of Strachey was compounded by Carrington’s suicide just two months after, in March. Another old friend, Ka Cox, died of a heart attack in 1938....
Just at that moment, Lucilla happened to cross the lawn at a distance. At sight of her, I could not, as I pointed to her, forbear exclaiming in the words of Sir John's favorite poet, There doth beauty dwell, There most conspicuous, e'en in outward sh...
As we know, Rilke, under the influence of Auguste Rodin, whom he had assisted between 1905 and 1906 in Meudon as a private secretary, turned away from the art nouveau-like, sensitized-atmospheric poetic approach of his early years to pursue a view of...
