Like all teenagers in the early '60s, I put down my hockey stick when the Beatles got big and picked up a guitar. We all thought we'd be rock stars. Then I got into comedy, but I'd always find a way to use my guitar, such as writing songs and doing m...
Look into words for the tomb of space where beauties & stones & eternities untangle. (...) In them is the flood which bothers the sea and the songs which need no music. Say these words that evolve into silence, whose language survives not being under...
I loved a woman whose beauty Like the moon moved all the humming heavens to music till the stars with their tiny teeth burst into song and I fell on the ground before her while the sky hardened and she laughed and turned me down softly, I was so youn...
To all you writers, artists, musicians, creative types who want to give up: It's okay to walk away for a bit. Get your second wind. But your writing, art, music will be there, lurking over your shoulder, and it will call to you, and you will answer. ...
Must I accept the barren Gift? -learn death, and lose my Mastery? Then let them know whose blood and breath will take the Gift and set them free: whose is the voice and whose the mind to set at naught the well-sung Game- when finned Finality arrives ...
And what percentage of people take up the option to die off?’ She looked at me, her glance telling me to be calm. ‘Oh, a hundred per cent, of course. Over many thousands of years, calculated by old time, of course. But yes, everyone takes the opt...
I was lonely, deadly lonely. And I was to find out then, as I found out so many times, over and over again, that women especially are social beings, who are not content with just husband and family, but must have a community, a group, an exchange wit...
He reasoned, even as a young man, that traditions may linger as he walked though the oracles of time. In later years he thought his mind may one day blur, should he survive to an old age, but as he spread ink on paper, transmitted and shared with tho...
Throughout our times with Christopher [therapist] we were encouraged to work together at communicating on the inside. He pointed out that it would be good for us all to listen-in when an alter was telling his/her story - that it's now safe, no harm w...
Bill: He'll accept you as his student. The Bride: Caught him in a good mood, aye? Bill: More like a sadistic one. Just seeing those steps again makes me ache. You're gonna have plenty of fun carrying buckets of water up and down that fucker. The Brid...
[Agent Monk has kidnapped the mayor] Agent Monk: You. I'm gonna tell you a story. A kid named Homer Wilkes lives 30 miles north of here. He'd just taken his girlfriend home and was walking along the road. A truck pulls up beside him. Four white boys ...
Carson Wells: [sitting by bed] Buenos Dias. I'm guessing this isn't the future you had planned for yourself when you first clapped eyes on that money. Don't worry, I'm not the man who's after you. Llewelyn Moss: [in bed] I know that. I've seen him. C...
Ed, the car salesman: I'll get to the bottom of this. Davenport! Davenport: Yes, Mr. Ed? Ed, the car salesman: Mr. Griswold ordered a blue sports wagon, where is it? Davenport: I don't know sir. Ed, the car salesman: [to Clark] I know what must have ...
Inigo Montoya: My father was slaughtered by a six-fingered man. He was a great swordmaker, my father. When the six-fingered man appeared and requested a special sword, my father took the job. He slaved a year before it was done. [Shows the Man in Bla...
[Terrell disobeys Khan's order to kill Kirk, who taunts Khan over the communicator] Kirk: Khan, you bloodsucker! You're going to have to do your own dirty work now! Do you hear me? Do you? Khan: Kirk? Kirk, you're still alive, my old friend? Kirk: St...
Miles away, down through an opening in the hills, he could catch glimpses of a road where motor-cars sometimes passed, and yet here, so removed from the arteries of the latest civilization, was a bat-haunted old homestead, where something unmistakabl...
Oh, I know what to do when I see victuals coming toward me in little old Bagdad-on-the-Subway. I strike the asphalt three times with my forehead and get ready to spiel yarns for my supper.
...Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierc...
He had decided that if he ever returned to his old job he would create a special level of hell, an enormous inescapable shop of attractive but useless and overpriced items that the damned would wander for eternity in the cold delusion that this was w...
I had never been into society; for me the world was the enclosure of the college and the seminary. I had a vague knowledge that there was a something called woman, but I never dwelt upon the subject; I was absolutely innocent. I saw my infirm old mot...
There, Clover found the "gardens and great trees and old cottages...so beautiful" that seeing them exhausted her. It was as if, she joked with her husband, "this English world is a huge stage-play got up only to amuse Americans. It is obviously unrea...
