I love Daredevil. I thought it was enjoyable. Okay? There were critical issues with it, and that's why I wear black, some people wear red - we are entitled to our opinions.
Fans love McGwire for his powerful physique, for his on-field hugs of his son, the part-time bat boy. He is Big Mac, or Paul Bunyan in Cardinals red with a white-ash bat instead of an ax.
I love men that love women. Morgan Freeman, who I worked with on 'RED,' was very flattering to me. But he is flattering to all women. He is a woman-charmer.
I love dressing up and doing the red carpet every once in a while, but I am very much a jeans kinda girl, so it's all a little embarrassing for me.
I became a Communist because I fell in love with a man who was a Red and entered the Army to take care of the Fascists, and I knew it would please him if I became one.
I told the record company I didn't feel the need to be at red-carpet events. I wanted a career. But I wanted to keep myself intact as a person.
I love your lips when they're wet with wine and red with wicked desire
I smell freedom, it smells like slow heavy rain drops hitting the warm, thick detached red dust of a busy unpaved road.
We cannot afford the EPA's continued expansion of red tape that is slowing economic growth and threatening to entangle millions of small businesses.
Delaying and withholding tactics, red herrings, partial and doubtful outcomes are stock in trade for fiction writers, especially crime writers.
If you think about it now, it's kind of ridiculous. All these hot girls on Baywatch in tiny little red bathing suits running around saving lives.
Candy apple red is my favorite color. It's a powerful color to wear. It's always been that way - I've always been really attracted to that color.
Heaven forbid that I should regard the limitation of my sympathy as anything save a red light which warns me not to criticize at all.
Kent steepled his fingers in consideration. Blood-red rubies flashed in the sunlight, like the eyes of a demon clutched in his hands.
Ordering a man to write a poem is like commanding a pregnant woman to give birth to a red-headed child.
The child now shewed her a narrow and rugged descent, made by cutting the red clay and stones, of which the cliffs are here composed, into a sort of rude steps.
For years I'd thought my color was black: deep, dark, thoughtful, mysterious. Black, you can hide behind. But now I know it is red.
Red climbed like a monkey, I to climbed like a monkey. A very old one. With one leg. And six fingers
But always, to her, red and green cabbages were to be jade and burgundy, chrysoprase and prophyry. Life has no weapons against a woman like that.
Unfortunately, we are finding the bureaucratic inefficiencies and red tape have a tendency to slow the efforts of individuals and communities working to rebuild.
When I was in school, I used to look out the window and see the big red double-deck buses driving by. It just looked so free.
