I jerked my hand back and looked up, horrified. “The ground feels like skin!” A slow smile crept onto Hades’ face. “Zeus got bored with the whole rock and eagle bit.” Rock and eagle bit...? Then it hit me. “Prometheus?” “You’re stan...
Ben Gardner: When we get them silly bastards down in that rock pile, it'll be some fun, they'll wish their fathers had never met their mothers. When they start takin' their bottoms out and slamming into them rocks, boy! Get away from there, ya goddam...
Vizzini: Finish him. Finish him, your way. Fezzik: Oh good, my way. Thank you Vizzini... what's my way? Vizzini: Pick up one of those rocks, get behind a boulder, in a few minutes the man in black will come running around the bend, the minute his hea...
The Old Man: Ain't nobody from outside bringing down the property value. It's these folk, shootin' each other and sellin' that crack rock and shit. Furious Styles: Well, how you think the crack rock gets into the country? We don't own any planes. We ...
. . . I have decided to forgive myself for pushing the fucking rock up the hill, because, hell, sometimes life is like that. I recognize that things aren’t always clear – not love or value or work – and that it is necessary to wrestle with a ro...
I always want to rock.
My Dad is my hero.
The knowledge from an enlightened person breaks on the hard rocks of ignorance.
I'd call my music rock but with pop hooks.
I grew up with British rock.
When the stars were right, They could plunge from world to world through the sky; but when the stars were wrong, They could not live.
The cold stars spun to the ancient rhythm, the august march of an everlasting symphony. They are old, the stars, and their memory is long.
...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.
Is not our capacity to choose, to chase, to dream of becoming other than we are, more powerful then the patterns of the stars?
Above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell.
Udell was an ordinary man, I thought, but a man with an extraordinary way of thinking. That was truly worth more than gold: extraordinary thinking.
True love is a rising Star in the midst of gently accompanying Stars.
If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers...
It's funny. That feeling of home. It's so temporary, like bathwater: the warmth eventually grows cold.
Is this how it is for a species that senses it is going extinct? Is there a feeling of loneliness, or unease, each morning, upon awakening?
ARE YOU A MOVIE STAR? Prerequisite for Laziness: Creativity, award winning actor/actress, convincing speech
