Quotes, Quotations and Sayings

Jealousy is no more than feeling alone against smiling enemies.

Jealousy is not at all low, but it catches us humbled and bowed down, at first sight.

What kind of people do they think we are, do they think we will be bowed by their tryanny?

The heart may think it knows better the senses know that absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends. The friend becomes a traitor by breaking, however unwillingly or sadly, out of our own zone a hard judgment is passed on him, for all the pleas of the heart.

The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends. The friend becomes a traitor by breaking, however unwillingly or sadly, out of our own zone: a hard judgment is passed on him, for all the pleas of the heart.

Mike was hoping to pick Eliza up... Eliza: "What are your feelings on linoleum?" Mike: "Erotic.

Absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends.

We praise Him, we bless Him, we adore Him, we glorify Him, and we wonder who is that baritone across the aisle and that pretty woman on our right who smells of apple blossoms. Our bowels stir and our cod itches and we amend our prayers for the spiritual life with the hope that it will not be too spiritual.

No more we meet in yonder bowers Absence has made me prone to roving; But older, firmer hearts than ours, Have found monotony in loving.

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other downThe swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the placeThe bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reproveThese were thy charms, sweet village sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to pleaseThese were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled.

The great secret, Eliza, is not having bad manners or good manners or any other particular sort of manners, but having the same manner for all human souls: in short, behaving as if you were in Heaven, where there are no third-class carriages, and one soul is as good as another.

Elizabeth: Can I have fifty cents? Tony: You need some shrimp? (Elizabeth wanted a drink while Tony fished.)

Intimacies between women go backwards, beginning with revelations and ending up in small talk without loss of esteem.

When you love someone all your saved-up wishes start coming out.

Will Where's Elizabeth Jack She's safe, just like I promised. She's all set to marry Norrington, just like she promised. And you get to die for her, just like you promised. So we're all men of our word really... except for Elizabeth, who is in fact, a woman.

Melodrama coming from you is about as normal as a bowel movement.

Deborah: All guys are bad. Elizabeth: It must come with having a penis.

Those colorful denizens of male despair, the Bowery bum and the rail-riding hobo, have been replaced by the bag lady and the welfare mother. Women have even taken over Skid Row.

Elizabeth Taylor is pre-feminist woman. This is the source of her continuing greatness and relevance. She wields the sexual power that feminism cannot explain and has tried to destroy. Through stars like Taylor, we sense the world-disordering impact of legendary women like Delilah, Salome, and Helen of Troy. Feminism has tried to dismiss the femme fatale as a misogynist libel, a hoary clichT. But the femme fatale expresses women's ancient and eternal control of the sexual realm. The specter of the femme fatale stalks all men's relations with women.

Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope; it is impossible.

If you look at life one way, there is always cause for alarm.

Nobody can be kinder than the narcissist while you react to life in his own terms.

Art is the only thing that can go on mattering, once it has stopped hurting.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing...

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, the emptiness of ages in his face, and on his back the burden of the world.

It is not our exalted feelings, it is our sentiments that build the necessary home.

Experience isn't interesting until it begins to repeat itself. In fact, till it does that, it hardly is experience.

Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.

All your youth you want to have your greatness taken for granted; when you find it taken for granted, you are unnerved.

Some people are molded by their admirations, others by their hostilities.

Hostage is a crucifying aloneness. It is a silent, screaming slide into the bowels of ultimate despair. Hostage is a man hanging by his fingernails over the edge of chaos, feeling his fingers slowly straightening. Hostage is the humiliating stripping away of every sense and fiber of body and mind and spirit that make us what we are. Hostage is a mutant creation filled with fear, self-loathing, guilt and death-wishing. But he is a man, a rare, unique and beautiful creation of which these things are no part.

Never to lie is to have no lock to your door, you are never wholly alone.

Nobody speaks the truth when there's something they must have.

Only in a house where one has learnt to be lonely does one have this solicitude for things. One's relation to them, the daily seeing or touching, begins to become love, and to lay one open to pain.

The charm, one might say the genius of memory, is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental: it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust.

I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken.

All social rules and all relations between individuals are eroded by a cash economy, avarice drags Pluto himself out of the bowels of the earth.

If you marry for money, you will surely earn it.

Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.

They'll beam it out of our bowels.

I wonder if the polite thing to do is always the right thing to do. When I met the family from Japan, they all bowed. I pretended like I was going to bow, but then I just kept going and flipped over on my back. I did this five times. I think they got the point.

At least she's the president of something, which is more than I can say. (on his wife Elizabeth, president of the American Red Cross)

. . . I consider looseness with words no less of a defect than looseness of the bowels.

It is satisfying for the descendant of a dissident refugee from Elizabeth I to present his credentials to Elizabeth II.

If thee marries for money, thee surely will earn it.

Illusions are art, for the feeling person, and it is by art that you live, if you do.

It is in this unearthly first hour of spring twilight that earth's almost agonized livingness is most felt. This hour is so dreadful to some people that they hurry indoors and turn on the lights.

No object is mysterious. The mystery is in your eye.

"Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies runs with one, walks gravely with another turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame it wounds one, another it kills like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning for there is no force able to resist it.

Jacoby I'm gonna teach you the meaning of pain. Elizabeth You like pain Try wearing a corset.