Quotes of: Pope-john-paul-ii Keyword

Harry Block: Between air-conditioning and the Pope, I'll take air-conditioning.

Deconstructing Harry

To the first class belong the Gospels and Acts; to the second, the Epistles; to the third, the Revelation.

Philip Schaff

Jackie Treehorn: Refill? The Dude: Does the Pope shit in the woods?

The Big Lebowski

Claiming that you have got the truth wrapped up does breed violence and intolerance.

Timothy Radcliffe

The fact that I was a girl never damaged my ambitions to be a pope or an emperor.

Willa Cather

So, my advice to young scientists is, think critically about your work; probably don't blab unnecessarily.

Peter Agre

It was from them that I learned that hard work in stable surroundings could yield rewards, even if only in infinitesimally small increments.

Sidney Altman

It is true that a fellow cannot ignore women - but he can think of them as he ought - as sisters, not as sparring partners.

Jim Elliot

Fate is an ugly bitch that hates you with a passion.

Baited, Part II

A picture story just doesn't run like a film. It doesn't have 24 frames per second. It doesn't deal with this illusion of movement.

Ben Katchor

Becky: I'm disgusted and repulsed and... and I can't look away.

Clerks II

Teen #2: Is that a fucking Bible? Jay: Hey hey, the HOLY fucking Bible, son.

Clerks II

Elias: [to Jay] I have a huge boner right now! [Jay smiles nervously at him]

Clerks II

Elias: [Elias is wasted] I hope that donkey doesn't have a heinie troll!

Clerks II

Bobbie Joe: I hope you rot down there!

Evil Dead II

Ash: [as all the knights start hailing him] No. Nooo, Noooo... noooo! NOOOOOO!

Evil Dead II

Santino: Your country ain't your blood. Remember that.

The Godfather: Part II

La grandeur d'un métier est peut-être, avant tout, d'unir des hommes (Terre des Hommes, ch. II)

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

A colleague like Barnabas could comfort him (Paul) in illness and keep him from overstrain when fit.

The Apostle: The Life of Paul

That deep silence has a melody of its own, a sweetness unknown amid the harsh discords of the world's sounds.

The Notebooks of Paul Brunton

How you die out in me: down to the last worn-out knot of breath you're there, with a splinter of life.

Poems of Paul Celan