Henry Hurt: I, uh, I have a request from the news people. Marilyn Lovell: Uh-huh? Henry Hurt: They're out front here. They want to put a transmitter up on the lawn. Marilyn Lovell: Transmitter? Henry Hurt: Kind of a tower, for live broadcast. Marilyn...
Aladdin: [saving Jasmine from an irate merchant] Thank you, kind sir. I'm so glad you found her. Aladdin: [to Jasmine] I've been looking all over for you! Princess Jasmine: [whispering] What are you doing? Aladdin: [whispering] Just play along. Farou...
Claire Standish: What's your name? John Bender: What's yours? Claire Standish: Claire. John Bender: Claire? Claire Standish: Claire. It's a family name. John Bender: Oh, it's a fat girl's name. Claire Standish: Oh, thank you. John Bender: You're welc...
Major Shears: You'll go on without me. That's an order. You're in command now, Shears. Major Shears: You make me sick with your heroics! There's a stench of death about you. You carry it in your pack like the plague. Explosives and L-pills - they go ...
[Caesar is aiming his gun at Corky, who is tied up - 'bound' as the title has it] Caesar: God. I should have seen this coming the minute I met you. Everybody knows your kind can't be trusted. Fucking queers make me sick. But you made a fatal mistake....
The notion that evil is non-rational is a more significant claim for Eagleton than at first appears, because he is (in this book [ ] as in others of his recent 'late period' prolific burst) anxious to rewrite theology: God (whom he elsewhere tells us...
That kind of thinking [that writers must alleviate their guilt for leading a creative life] is based on the idea that the creative life is somehow self-indulgent. Artists and writers have to understand and live the truth that what we are doing is nou...
Literature is the extant body of written art. All novels belong to it. The value judgement concealed in distinguishing one novel as literature and another as genre vanishes with the distinction. Every readable novel can give true pleasure. Every nove...
Night air has the strangest flavour Space to breathe it - time to savour All that night air has to lend me Til the morning makes me angry In the night air, the night air. I've acquired a kind of madness Daylight fills my heart with sadness And only s...
I don't know how you hear music. I imagine that if you like music at all then it has, in your head, some kind of third dimension to it, a dimension suggesting space as well as surface, depth of field as well as texture. Speaking for myself, I used to...
Cinematic describes the effect on your imagination when you listen to our music. I want us to leave enough space between the lines to let people’s imagination run free. Pop forms the contrast to show that our music is not just niche music and shoul...
The beautiful unruliness of literature is what makes it so much fun to wander through: you read Jane Austen and you say, oh, that is IT. And then you turn around and read Sterne, and you say, Man, that is IT. And then you wander across a century or s...
Siddhartha wants liberation, Dante wants Beatrice, Frodo wants to get to Mount Doom—we all want something. Quest is elemental to the human experience. All road narratives are to some extent built on quest. If you’re a woman, though, this fundamen...
So what is the fallout for dogs of the Lassie myth? As soon as you bestow intelligence and morality, you bestow the responsibility that goes along with them. In other words, if the dog knows it’s wrong to destroy furniture yet deliberately and mali...
What kind of world have we built when it is more acceptable to ask for sex than a cuddle session? … Have we so stripped our sexuality of inherent value that it becomes the sacrificial lamb on the altar of connection, because everything else is too ...
Some writers are the kind of solo violinists who need complete silence to tune their instruments. Others want to hear every member of the orchestra—they’ll take a cue from a clarinet, from an oboe, even. I am one of those. My writing desk is cove...
The hatred I feel for him, for the phantom girl, for everything, is so real and immediate that it chokes me. Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable. Why did it take him being whipped within an inch of his life to see it? Because I’m s...
This could be the last night of our lives, certainly the last even barely ordinary one. The last night we go to sleep and get up just as we always have. And all I could think of was that I wanted to spend it with you." Her heart skipped a beat. "Jace...
I'm through with you. Yes, I am going to put you down. From now on, I am my own God. I am going to live by the rules I se for myself. I'll discard everything I was once taught about you. Then I'll be you. I'll be my own God, living my life as I see f...
Of course you can have a true Shadowhunter name," Will said. "You can have mine." Tessa stared at him, all black and white against the black-and-white snow and stone. "Your name?" Will took a step toward her, till they stood face-to-face. Then he rea...
Late-Flowering Lust My head is bald, my breath is bad, Unshaven is my chin, I have not now the joys I had When I was young in sin. I run my fingers down your dress With brandy-certain aim And you respond to my caress And maybe feel the same. But I've...
