...be yourself- not your idea of what you think somebody else's idea of yourself should be.
Audrey Burke: What's heroin like? Jerry Sunborne: Do you hear that expression being kissed by God?
It's so hard to express yourself.' I understand this.' I want to express myself.' The same is true for me.' I'm looking for my voice.' It's in your mouth.' I want to do something I'm not ashamed of.' Something you are proud of, yes?' Not even. I just don't want to be ashamed.
Maggie Peyton: [seeing Herbie with a lovestruck expression after he sees a brand new Volkswagen Beetle] Herbie, she's too young for you.
Because I trust in the ever-changing climate of the heart. (At least, today I feel that way.) I think it is necessary to have many experiences for the sake of feeling something; for the sake of being challenged, and for the sake of being expressive, to offer something to someone else, to learn what we are capable of.
Forrester: What's your name? Jamal: Jamal Wallace. Forrester: Sounds like some kind of marmalade. How old are you? Jamal: I'm sixteen. Forrester: Sixteen? And you're black. It's remarkable. Jamal: "Remarkable"? It's remarkable that I'm black? What does me being black have to do with anything? Forrester: You don't know what to do right now, do you? If you say what you really want to, I may not read any more of this. But if you let me run you down with this racist bullshit... what does that make you? Jamal: I'm not playing this game, man. Forrester: I say you are playing it. An expression is worth a thousand words. Perhaps in your case, just two.
Detective Banner: [Holds up Nola's diary] have you seen this before? Christopher "Chris" Wilton: No [takes the diary and starts reading it] Detective Banner: Were you aware that Nola Rice kept a diary? Christopher "Chris" Wilton: [looks up after a few moments with a defeated looking expression on his face] no Detective Banner: Do you still claim that the last time you saw Nola Rice was at the Tate Modem over a year ago?
Christopher "Chris" Wilton: [Holds up Nola's diary] have you seen this before? Christopher "Chris" Wilton: No [takes the diary and starts reading it] Detective Banner: Were you aware that Nola Rice kept a diary? Christopher "Chris" Wilton: [looks up after a few moments with a defeated looking expression on his face] no Detective Banner: Do you still claim that the last time you saw Nola Rice was at the Tate Modem over a year ago?
[Frank watches Lilly leave from the Lincoln Memorial] Frank Horrigan: If she looks back, it means she's interested. Come on, give me a look back now. Just give me that smug expression and be on your way. [Lilly looks back] Frank Horrigan: Well, Abe? Damn... wish I could have been there for you, pal.
[Hallie is trying to convince Annie the proposed switch will work] Hallie: Look, I can do you already. [Hallie pulls her hair back and adopts a British accent] Hallie: "Yes, you want to know the real difference between us? I have class and you don't." Come on, Annie. I gotta meet my ma. [arranges her expression into a pout]
Virgil: Now the first time you kill somebody, that's the hardest. I don't give a shit if you're fuckin' Wyatt Earp or Jack the Ripper. Remember that guy in Texas? The guy up in that fuckin' tower that killed all them people? I'll bet you green money that first little black dot he took a bead on, that was the bitch of the bunch. First one is tough, no fuckin' foolin'. The second one... the second one ain't no fuckin' Mardis Gras either, but it's better than the first one 'cause you still feel the same thing, y'know... except it's more diluted, y'know it's... it's better. I threw up on the first one, you believe that? Then the third one... the third one is easy, you level right off. It's no problem. Now... shit... now I do it just to watch their fuckin' expression change.
Riley Poole: Look at it this way - in a hundred years, no one is gonna remember anyone involved in the Lincoln assassination besides Booth. Ben Gates: That's not true. Do you know the expression "His name is mud?" Riley Poole: Yes, of course. Ben Gates: You do? Do you know the origin of the expression? Riley Poole: Does anyone but you? Ben Gates: Dr. Samuel Mudd was convicted of being a co-conspirator in the Lincoln assassination. The evidence was circumstantial, he was later pardoned, but it didn't matter. Mudd's name still lives in infamy, and I will not let Thomas Gates' name be mud.
Kitty Fane: Walter, stop. I'm pregnant. Walter Fane: A baby? [while Walter begins to look elated, Kitty looks terrified] Walter Fane: You're quite certain? Kitty Fane: Yes. Walter Fane: Well, that's wonderful. [he sees the scared look on Kitty's face and the he remembers; Kitty's affair with Charlie Townsend] Walter Fane: How long do you think you've been like this? Kitty Fane: Two months. Maybe longer. Walter Fane: [his expression becomes solemn] Kitty. Am I the father? Kitty Fane: [crying softly] I honestly don't know. I'm sorry. Walter Fane: Well... It doesn't matter now, does it? Kitty Fane: No. No, it doesn't. [Kitty throughs her arms around Walter and embraces him. He in turn hugs her back]
Bess: [looks at Nancy while she is pulling out her notebook from her purse and points at her] I know that look. Like in the third grade, I know that look. George: You snag a scoop? Nancy: [serious expression as she writes in notebook] More like a bite on one of those tiny plastic spoons... and something tastes funny.
Sheldon: [Ongoing expression when Sheldon is at the door] Penny. [Knock-knock-knock] Sheldon: Penny. [Knock-knock-knock] Sheldon: Penny. [Knock-knock-knock] Sheldon: .
Gracie: Some people like art, I happen to like fashion. You like Chopin... Ok, I think he's boring. You like Chopin... I like... Chopard, Ok, what's the difference. I mean fashion is art, right? It's an expression of who I am.
The Blind Hunter: The expression on her face when she learns the truth of my fate will be legendary.
Tom: Jerry, are you familiar with the expression "Curiosity strangled the cat"? Jerry: I always thought it was "Curiosity killed the cat". Tom: God lives in the details, Jerry.
More of me comes out when I improvise.
Lars: Are you familiar with the expression "sitting duck"? Juan: Uhh, no.
Now,young lady,I suppose you're here for a work assignment.
If we don't believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all.
Being an American is about having the right to be who you are. Sometimes that doesn't happen.
My music is the spiritual expression of what I am
Left Hand: Did you ever hear the expression "Too close for comfort"? That was damn uncomfortable.
You've a pretty good nerve,
Elijah Price: Do you see any Teletubbies in here? Do you see a slender plastic tag clipped to my shirt with my name printed on it? Do you see a little Asian child with a blank expression on his face sitting outside on a mechanical helicopter that shakes when you put quarters in it? No? Well, that's what you see at a toy store. And you must think you're in a toy store, because you're here shopping for an infant named Jeb.
Art: Morning, neighbor. David Leary: Morning, Art. Art: I bet you're wondering, Why in the Sam Hill am I chopping wood at this hour? David Leary: Not really. Art: You know who Sam Hill was? David Leary: No, I don't. Art: Well, he wasn't anyone. It's a euphemism. Cockney expression for what the hell. [shouts] Art: What the hell! What the hell! Then it turned into, "What the Sam Hill?" David Leary: I'll see you later, Art. You'll be here later, right? Art: [shouts] What the hell!
No man has the right to dictate what other men should perceive, create or produce, but all should be encouraged to reveal themselves, their perceptions and emotions, and to build confidence in the creative spirit.
She was not one for emptying her face of expression.
Sasha: [Sasha confesses to Nick about who he is] I'm undercover. F.B.I. Nick: But you passed the lie detector test. Sasha: That's nothing man. Anybody can do that. Nick: [with anger in his voice] All this time... y ou've been settin' up on me. [aims his weapon at Sasha] Nick: I believed in you. I trusted you. Brought you into my family... [shouts] Nick: I vouched for you! And you betrayed me? Sasha: It's not that simple. Lester: [places hand on Nick's shoulder] Don't do it. [Nick disarms himself, unable to shoot Sasha] Sasha: [guilty expression on his face] Well, I'm sorry. [Sasha walks away to take Lester to safety] Nick: I thought we was friends, Sasha. Sasha: [stops in his tracks] We still are. You can bet your life on that.
At the small table, sitting very upright, was one of the ugliest old ladies he had ever seen. It was an ugliness of distinction - it fascinated rather than repelled.
By being natural and sincere, one often can create revolutions without having sought them.
Great art is the outward expression of an inner life in the artist, and this inner life will result in his personal vision of the world.
Holly: [while Abe munches on his cob of corn] See this is her old problem. She creates a situation where she gets this rejection that everyone else sees coming. Robin: She just wasn't being honest. Holly: Well, I think it's a black thing too. Elaine: [more shocked] Jane is black? Abe: [mouth full of corn from his cob] Yes, Ma'am. She sure is. Robin: And you can't live a lie. You just can't. Holly: [glancing at Abe] Well, there's lying and then there's... just not telling. [Munching on his cob of corn, Abe glances up at her] Robin: Big diff. Elaine: She's a black Lesbian? Abe: [mouth full of corn from his cob] Yes, Ma'am. That is right. Elaine: [looking at Robin] And she was living here? With you? Holly: No, no, no no, no no. She was just living here. They weren't like fucking or anything. [Elaine gasps; Robin rolls her eyes. Abe laughs, nearly choking on his corn] Holly: [seeing Robin's expression and reconsidering] Were you? Elaine: [shocked] Were you? Abe: [eager] Were you? Robin: [indignantly disregarding them] Ah - I'll get the coffee.
There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.
Innovation is an evolutionary process, so it's not necessary to be radical all the time.
Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social enviroment. Most people are incapable of forming such opinions.
I want freedom for the full expression of my personality.
Isn't language loss a good thing, because fewer languages mean easier communication among the world's people? Perhaps, but it's a bad thing in other respects. Languages differ in structure and vocabulary, in how they express causation and feelings and personal responsibility, hence in how they shape our thoughts. There's no single purpose
Every creator painfully experiences the chasm between his inner vision and its ultimate expression. The chasm is never completely bridged. We all have the conviction, perhaps illusory, that we have much more to say than appears on the paper.
I'm not an abstractionist. I'm not interested in the relationship of color or form or anything else. I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.
The art of life is to live in the present moment and to make that moment as perfect as we can by the realization that we are the instruments and expression of God himself.
There are many things which can not be expressed by words. There are many words which can not be spelled by human tongue. There are many tongues which utter one single truth.
What word or expression do you most overuse? Re-reading a collection of my stuff, I was rather startled to find that it was 'perhaps.
Music is an outburst of the soul.
I like contradictions. We have never attained the infinite variety and contradictions that exist in nature. Tomorrow I shall contradict myself. That is the one way I have of asserting my liberty, the real liberty one does not find as a member of society.
Music is the literature of the heart; it commences where speech ends.
A good author insists on being accepted on his own terms, and audiences must bicker awhile before they're willing to give in. One learns not to be resentful about this condition but to credit it to human nature.
Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.
When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.
All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up.
There are only two styles of portrait painting: the serious and the smirk.
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