I always value my large kitchen because it was better to do everything there, you wash up, you do everything, rather than messing up another room and I pop my typewriter just next to it. So I still write now but I was doing more writing when the chil...
He had never seen the ocean before; he knew it only as the featureless blue void between the detailed continents on his father’s old globe. But now he saw that it was anything but featureless; distant blue swells rising and falling, like great lung...
Hoggle: And you wouldn't be so brave if you'd ever smelled the Bog of Eternal Stench. It's, it's... Sarah: Is that all it does, is smell? Hoggle: Oh, believe me, that's enough! But the worst thing is, if you so much as set a foot in the Bog of Stench...
Ulysses Everett McGill: Say, uh, Cousin Wash, I suppose it'd be the acme of foolishness to inquire if you had a hair net. Washington Hogwallop: Got a bunch in yon bureau, Mrs. Hogwallop's as a matter of fact [sniff] Washington Hogwallop: . Help y'sel...
Charlie Bucket: Hey Grandpa, what was that we just went through? Willy Wonka: Hsaw Aknow. Mrs. Teevee: Is that Japanese? Willy Wonka: No, that's Wonka wash, spelled backwards. That's it, ladies and gentlemen, the journey's over! Grandpa Joe: Finest b...
Adam: Why didn't we go to a barber? Kyle: That would have been a good idea if we paid someone to do it. Adam: Using your fucking balls trimmer instead of going to the barber. Kyle: I never washed them, ever. It's not my balls, it's my asshole. I'm jo...
Jack Swigert: [about to turn power back on in the capsule] Ken, there's an awful lot of condensation on these panels. What's the story of them shorting out? Ken Mattingly: Umm... We'll just have to take that one at a time, Jack. Jack Swigert: [to him...
...it was one at bat during October 1975 that defined his [Joe Morgan's] place in baseball history and secured the legacy of the Big Red Machine, all with one swing.
Daddy, are you going to yell at us some more today?' Neary gazed down into her clear, guileless eyes. That was how he looked to her---a yelling machine. And she was prepared to accept more yelling because she loved him.
The human brain has the unique ability to doubt the reality presented to itself. To comprehend the dissonance between ideas and the truth of the surrounding world. God knows this, and it infuriates him. It terrifies him.
The Earth is God's pinball machine and each quake, tidal wave, flash flood and volcanic eruption is the result of a TILT that occurs when God, cheating, tries to win free games.
Anna liked magazines. They were glossy machines. The only technology that she could fold. She read them on a regular basis because they were absorbing. Each one came out on a specific day of the week and was good for an hour of absorption.
Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were heading for shore.
There’s an enormous propaganda machine in this world,' Peter said, 'that tries to make people think love — real, earthy, sweaty love — is wrong. But how in the hell they expect to propagate the race that way is beyond me.
-to judge us all through the machine of the Commandant's monstrous fictions! As though they were the truth! As though history & the written word were friends, rather than adversaries!
If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that registered earthquakes ten th...
Bat stood in the open door and said "I am a crime scene unit detective from the New York City Police Department, you heinous fucking mongoloid, and there is nothing I cannot do.
The untreated cardboard sleeve around the venti-plus cup, stamped with biodegradable inks, proclaiming the coffee shop's proud independence, the simple black printing on the flecked card making its own statement about authenticity.
The elevator doors opened to reveal a very large man brandishing a bloodstained antique phone receiver in a plastic bag and proclaiming, "I found this up him!" "You know," said Tallow, "I really have no response to that.
There ain't enough happens in soccer. It's like watching twenty-two hair models kick a ball around for what seems like six months and then one of them falls over and the ball goes in the goal.
And no one ever told me about the laziness of grief. Except at my job--where the machine seems to run on much as usual--I loath the slightest effort. Not only writing but even reading a letter is too much.
