The South is like my favorite pair of blue jeans. It's shrunk some, faded a bit, got a few holes in it. it just might split at the seams. It doesn't look much like it used to, but it's more comfortable, and there's probably a lot of wear left in it.
Lydia: Mr. and Mrs. Maitland? Hello? Where are you? Beetlejuice: Dead. Dead, dead, deadski. Lydia: Of course they're dead. They're ghosts. Beetlejuice: No, I mean they're gone, split, out of here, afterlife kids, deceased-ahh. Lydia: Are you a ghost ...
Salvatore "Sal" Boca: Weinstock, I'm telling you, they'll split if we don't move! This guy's got 'em like that, he's everything they say he is! Joel Weinstock: What about you, Sal? Are you everything they say YOU are?
Laura: I'm too tired not to be with you. Rob: What, so if you had a bit more energy we'd stay split up, but things being as they are, with you being wiped out and all, you want to get back together? Is that it? Laura: Yeah.
[Paul, John and George come out of the studio, looking for Ringo] Paul: Let's split up and look for him! [Paul walks away, George and John follow him. Paul turns around] John: We've become a limited company.
Ari: Were you in prison? Royal: Kinda. Minimum security. I got jacked by the IRS. Shall we split? Ari: Yes, sir. Royal: No, call me Mr. Tennenbaum. Ari: OK. Royal: Oh, I'm kidding. Call me Pappy.
Tom: [split screen scene on the train about Millie's wedding] Yeah but you said you were going that's why I'm going. McKenzie: And that's why I called her last night and told her I was sick, like a ninja.
I started in junior high doing the splits and flips and that kind of stuff. It was kind of the acceptable thing to do. But I had two older brothers, so I was a tomboy. I was the cute tomboy who could put on the skirt but then go tackle you or somethi...
Excuse me, your attention please.” He waited until the whole floor had stopped what it was doing and turned to face him. For a split second his impulse control kicked in, but by then his mouth was fully engaged. “For the record, Claire Marsden an...
And there are my cats, engaged in a ritual that goes back thousands of years, tranquilly licking themselves after the meal. Practical animals, they prefer to have others provide the food ... some of them do. There must have been a split between the c...
I once heard a tale of a man who split himself in two. The one part never changed at all; the other grew and grew. The changeless part was always true, The growing part was always new, And I wondered, when the tale was through, Which part was me, and...
Hello," I said stiffly. His smile split into a full grin."So nice to see you again." "Always a pleasure." My lie sounded robotic, but hopefully it was better than sounding afraid. "No,no," he said. "The pleasure's all mine." "If you say so,"I said.
And for a moment―for a split second―everything else falls away, the whole pattern and order of my life, and a huge joy crests in my chest. I am no one, and I owe nothing to anybody, and my life is my own.
Sometimes Harry thought the deepest split in his personality wasn't anything to do with his dark side; rather it was the divide between the altruistic and forgiving Abstract Reasoning Harry, versus the frustrated and angry Harry In The Moment.
Oh, no said her mother sadly. You know nothing of the pettiness of women. When brothers agree to split a joint family they sometimes divide lakhs of rupees worth of property in a few minutes. But the tussle of their wives over the pots and pans in th...
Naturally, I do blame Françoise. I blame her for having N in the first place. She was young, she was beautiful, she was married to a doctor, and she was intelligent. She could have abstained from producing her first son. It was wrong on a variety of...
Although I notice there is never a truly good time to have a nice long chat with one´s mother-in-law, unless you are having an extraordinary life and marriage and your mother-in-law is, say, Maureen Dowd, or Indira Gandhi. Someone of that ilk.
When a seed sprouts, it's a violent process. The skin breaks and splits in two. Something dies and something is born. Anytime you paint a strong or violent image, you may be expressing that part of yourself that's opening in order to let the new emer...
The heart beneath the breastbone pumping. The blood on its appointed rounds. Life in small places, narrow crannies. In the leaves, the toad's pulse. The delicate cellular warfare in a waterdrop. A dextrocardiac, said the smiling doctor. Your heart's ...
As it unfolded, the structure of the story began to remind me of one of those Russian dolls that contain innumerable ever-smaller dolls within. Step by step the narrative split into a thousand stories, as if it had entered a gallery of mirrors, its i...
As for literary criticism in general: I have long felt that any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel or a play or a poem is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae or a banana...
