A mathematician tells you that the wall of warped space prevents the Moon from flying out of its orbit yet can't tell you why an astronaut can go back and forth across that same space.
Humans are allergic to change. They love to say, 'We've always done it this way.' I try to fight that. That's why I have a clock on my wall that runs counter-clockwise.
In school, I learned about artists and how they were free to express themselves. I was allergic to conformity, and the lifestyle attracted me. I wanted to express myself in a way that slammed people up against the wall.
It was very clear that this was a very, very old site. There were remains of sod walls. Fishermen assumed it was an old Indian site. Bu Indians didn't use that kind of buildings and houses.
The future begins when we tear down the walls that keep us in the past. We must be thankful for those who walked through the pain and helped us to see the way out.
The firmest house in my fiction, probably, is the little thick-walled sandstone farmhouse of 'The Centaur' and 'Of the Farm'; I had lived in that house, and can visualize every floorboard and bit of worn molding.
Someone once said, that the internet is the bathroom wall of the 21 century. And that appears to be true, especially since Bobrick transitioned to plastic laminates removing the opportunity to defame others behind those closed doors.
I'm not too easily distracted now I've had practice, but I write with nothing to look at. I used to rent an office that just had a view of a wall!
I grew up in a country where I remember my parents not being able to have a conversation on the phone. The walls had ears, and you couldn't speak freely.
I always looked up there, because I remember a time when the only things on the walls in Fenway were the Jimmy Fund sign and the retired numbers. Never in a million years did you think you'd ever be up there with those guys.
It's all about the director for me; we have to click. It's a trust thing. I'll say I'm ready to let down my walls. I'll cry for you as long as you need. But you're going to have to hug me afterwards.
Young Anna: I think some company is overdue; I started talking to the pictures on the walls [points to woman, Joan of Arc, in painting] Young Anna: Hang in there Joan!
Markl: [Shadows begin to creep from walls] He's calling the spirits of darkness... I saw him do this once before when a girl dumped him!
[indicating the CCTV footage that will act as his alibi] Simon Skinner: [smiling] Feel free to spool through! [Skinner pulls a pose identical to the one in a photo on the wall behind him]
Goblin Gunner: FIRE! [He touches a match to the cannon, and a spiked ball fires. The heroes duck, and it smashes into a wall, sticking there] Goblin Cannonball: I hit something! Yes? No?
Teacher: If ya don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding! How can ya have any pudding if ya don't eat ya meat?
Mother Abbess: Maria, these walls were not meant to shut out problems. You have to face them. You have to live the life you were born to live.
Buzz Lightyear #2: [thinks the approaching elevator is walls closing in] Quick! Help me prop up Vegetable Man, or we're done for!
Storm: Can you teleport inside? Nightcrawler: No. I have to be able to see where I am going, otherwise I could wind up inside a wall.
I build a kind of wall between myself and t he model so that I can paint in peace behind it. Otherwise, she might say something that confuses and distracts me.
Concrete poets continue to turn out beautiful things, but to me they're more visual than oral, and they almost really belong on the wall rather than in a book. I haven't the least idea of where poetry is going.
