John Anderton: [his face inches from Agatha's] Where's my Minority Report? [screams] John Anderton: DO I EVEN HAVE ONE? [moment's silence] John Anderton: [softly] Do I have one? Agatha: [whispers] No.
[Liz screams as Uncle Willie pinches her on the rear] Macaulay Connor: Don't DO that! Elizabeth (Liz) Imbrie: I... I feel exactly as though I'd been pinched. Seth Lord: Don't you think you weren't.
Paulie: You're busted! Adrian: What? Paulie: You're not a virgin! [Adrian sobbing] Paulie: You let him get into your pants! She's busted! [Rocky grabs Paulie; screams, then sobs] Paulie: [cries] I can't haul meat no more.
[first lines] Detective Taylor: Neighbors heard them screaming at each other, like for two hours, and it was nothing new. Then they heard the gun go off, both barrels. Crime of passion. William Somerset: Yeah, just look at all the passion on that wal...
Lucille: [screaming] He made me WATCH! Christ, I could use a cigarette. Marv: [narrating] That's the thing with dames; sometimes all they gotta do is let it out and a few buckets later there's no way you'd know.
Russell: Where are you keeping Kevin? Let me go! Beta: Scream all you want, small mailman. Alpha: None of your mailman friends can hear you. Russell: I'll unleash all my Wilderness Explorer training!
To write a novel is to embark on a quest that is very romantic. People have visions, and the next step is to execute them. That's a very romantic project. Like Edvard Munch's strange dreamlike canvases where people are stylized, like 'The Scream.' Mu...
There are two types of people in the world. People who like kids, and people who don't. People who complain about kids screaming on aeroplanes and in restaurants, and those people who love kids and enjoy their energy and enjoy hearing the noise they ...
When I was little I went to a Baptist Church with my grandmother. My earliest memories were of her falling out in the middle of the floor and they had to cover her with a white sheet. Every time we went to church it was scary. The music would start p...
You cry and you scream and you stomp your feet and you shout. You say, 'You know what? I'm giving up, I don't care.' And then you go to bed and you wake up and it's a brand new day, and you pick yourself back up again.
I read somewhere that Mitt and I have a 'storybook marriage.' Well, in the storybooks I read, there were never long, long, rainy winter afternoons in a house with five boys screaming at once. And those storybooks never seemed to have chapters called ...
Thousands of cars and a million guitars Screaming with power in the air! We've found the place where the decibels race This army of rock will be there To ram it down Ram it down! Straight to the heart of this town. Ram it down. Ram it down. Razing th...
As a child, I was always making sound; it was a compulsion. I loved to scream and yell and sing; it freed me from all the thoughts in my head. I begged for opera lessons because opera singing is the most formidable, most emotional way to use your voi...
People think blood red, but blood don't got no colour. Not when blood wash the floor she lying on as she scream for that son of a bitch to come, the lone baby of 1785. Not when the baby wash in crimson and squealing like it just depart heaven to come...
When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters a table leg breaks or when a picture falls off the wall it makes a noise. But as for your heart when that breaks it s completely silent. You would t...
Woody: Buzz! Go away, you disgusting freaks! Mutant Toys: [Woody screams as he shields Buzz's arm from Babyface which grabs Buzz's arm from Woody] Woody: All back! Back, you cannibals! [Woody screams again as he loses his grip on Buzz's arm, which se...
And I swore it to myself the night Maurice ran away,” Ilyse screamed, terror and fury coursing through her veins, “and I’ll swear it again; no matter what you do, you will never conquer me.
Their screams would echo through the house and reverberate against my eardrums until my mind would fracture. Years went by and with each fracture; I lost a piece of my soul until I became lost and empty inside.
Only the passionate were immortal, it seemed. If you fought, screwed, screamed, laughed, or otherwise experienced life intensely, for better or worse, you left a record. Those who lived a quiet, well-behaved, well-tempered life? Gone without a trace.
Our eyes met and locked as the song came to a halt, followed by a screaming conclusion from the crowd, girls around us pressing me into the stage, forcing all the air out of my lungs, but I’d forgotten about doing anything so basic as breathing.
What is suffering? I'm not sure what it is, but I know that suffering is the name we give to the origin of all the sighs, screams, and groans — small and large, crude and multifaceted — that concern us. The word defines our gaze even more than wh...
