Best 376 quotes in «dialogue quotes» category

It's not so easy." "What isn't?" "To establish relationships, you can't just elect people, it can't be done by thinking and willing.

I've just been certified as a shaman, or sha-woman, if you please," Dr. Tuttle said. "You can hop up on the table if you prefer not to stand. You look worse for wear. Is that the expression?" I leaned carefully against the bookshelf. "What do you use the massage table for?" I heard myself ask. "Mystical recalibrations, mostly. I use copper dowels to locate lugubriations in the subtle body field. It's an ancient form of healing—locating and then surgically removing cancerous energies." "I see." "And by surgery I mean metaphysical. Like magnet sucking. I can show you the magnet machine if you're interested. Small enough to fit in a handbag. Costs a pretty penny, although it's very useful. Very. Not so much for insomniacs, but for compulsive gamblers and Peeping Toms—adrenaline junkies, in other words. New York City is full of those types, so I foresee myself getting busier this year. But don't worry. I'm not abandoning my psychiatric clients. There are only a few of you anyway. Hence my new certification. Costly, but worth it. Sit on it," she insisted, so I did, grappling with the edge of the cool pleather of the massage table to hoist myself up. My legs swung like a kid's at the doctor's.

I want downers, that much I know," I said frankly. "And I want something that'll put a damper on my need for company.I'm at the end of my rope," I said. "I'm an orphan, on top of it all. I probably have PTSD. My mother killed herself." "How?" Dr. Tuttle asked. "Slit her wrists," I lied. "Good to know.

I was nearly christened Eric Bloom Strike,' he said and Robin choked on her water. He laughed as she coughed into a napkin. 'Let's face it, Cormoran's not much bloody better. Cormoran Blue—' 'Blue?' 'Blue Öyster Cult, aren't you listening?' 'God,' said Robin. 'You keep that quiet.' 'Wouldn't you?

I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. ‘all right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool — that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.

Listen to what you have written. A dud rhythm in a passage of dialogue may show that you don't yet understand the characters well enough to write in their voices." [Ten rules for writing fiction (The Guardian, 20 February 2010)]

Look Moy, see the chimneys, they've lit all the fires, they must have known we were going to try to drown ourselves. And Anax is running on ahead to bring the news.

MARCELLUS: But look, Agathon, what strange dark light is glowing amongst the clouds. You would think a sea of flame is blazing behind the clouds. A divine fire! And the sky is like a blue bell. It's as if one can hear it tolling in deep, solemn tones. You might even suspect that up there above us, in unattainable heights, something is taking place of which we shall never know. But at times we can sense it, when that vast silence has settled over the earth. And yet! All this is very confusing. The gods have to pose insoluble riddles for us humans. And the earth does not rescue us from the cunning of the gods; for it too is full of things that confound the senses. Both things and humans confuse me. True enough! Things are very taciturn! And the human soul won't yield up its riddles. You ask and it keeps silent. AGATHON: Let's live and not ask questions. Life is full of beauty.

Lovely country, isn't it. Do you know this part of the world?" "No." He said, suddenly stretching out his hands, "Oh, the sea, the sea—it's so wonderful.

Marriage is brainwashing. Not necessarily a bad thing. Your brain could do with a wash.

Luthicer hummed. "You're either brave or very foolish." "What's the difference?" (Eric)

Madam: Are you lucky, Debora? Debora: What do you mean? Madam: Well, you don't look that happy today... Debora: Is it that clear?

Mary. If you were real I'd run away with you forever.

May as well have ox blood running through those veins,” I added, “You’re as stubborn as one.

Mori made an unwilling sound. 'I don't like Western art.' 'No look at this.' He lifted it from its package. It wasn't heavy. 'It's clever, it looks like busy Mozart.' 'What?' 'I . . .' Thaniel sighed. 'I see sound. Mozart looks like this. You know. Fast strings.' 'See? In front of you?' 'Yes. I'm not mad.' 'I didn't think so. All sounds?' 'Yes.

Most arguments are about programming; most resolutions are reached through a process of unlearning then relearning.

Nobody wants a house in Osaka,' he said, and it was strange to hear him switch suddenly to foreign pronunciation in the middle of his English. 'It would mean you had to live in Osaka.' 'What's wrong with it?' 'It's like . . . Birmingham.

My girl was mad and I loved her. Upon a night, she read my poetry; and kissing me madly she cried, ‘You are a genius, my love!’ To which I replied, ‘My girl,’ whispering, ‘Every doctor in this land with a prescription pad is more of a genius than I.

... no sensitive Christian can be satisfied with a distinction between righteousness and unrighteousness drawn only between communities, with each individual belonging unambiguously on one or the other side of the line. The behavior of "the righteous" is often very disappointing, while "the unrighteous" regularly perform in a manner that is much better than our theology might lead us to expect of them. Thus the need for a perspective that allows for both a rather slow process of sanctification in the Christian life and some sort of divine restraint on the power of sin in the unbelieving community. These theological adjustments to a religious perspective that might otherwise betray strong Manichean tones provide us with yet another reason for openness to a broad-ranging dialogue: Christians have good grounds for believing that their own weakness can be corrected by encountering the strengths of others.

Now, now.” I placed a hand on his back. “Jealousy colors you black, Geoff. If you wanted to be a pretty princess too, I would have bought you a crown. I’ll be back soon.

Now.' He said, 'I have to ask you three question. How old are you? Are you in love? And what in God’s name are you doing here?

Nous sommes devenus lucides. Nous avons remplacé le dialogue par le communiqué.

Now let me ask you a technical question. Do you have any heroes?" "I guess Whoopi Goldberg is my hero." "A family friend?" "She took care of me after my mother died," I said. Who hadn't heard of Whoopi Goldberg?

Now write this down because I have a feeling you're too psychotic to remember: Saturday, January twentieth, at two o'clock. And try the Infermiterol. Bye-bye.

Oh Irina, there's so much life for us." "Is there? I feel I have no life. There's nothing in front of me but a black wall.

Oh, once you’ve been initiated into the Elderly, the world doesn’t want you back.” Veronica settled herself in a rattan chair and adjusted her hat just so. “We—by whom I mean anyone over sixty—commit two offenses just by existing. One is Lack of Velocity. We drive too slowly, walk too slowly, talk too slowly. The world will do business with dictators, perverts, and drug barons of all stripes, but being slowed down it cannot abide. Our second offence is being Everyman’s memento mori. The world can only get comfy in shiny-eyed denial if we are out of sight.

One of the most wonderful things about Pride and Prejudice is the variety of voices it embodies. There are so many different forms of dialogue: between several people, between two people, internal dialogue and dialogue through letters. All tensions are created and resolved through dialogue. Austen's ability to create such multivocality, such diverse voices and intonations in relation and in confrontation within a cohesive structure, is one of the best examples of the democratic aspect of the novel. In Austen's novels, there are spaces for oppositions that do not need to eliminate each other in order to exist. There is also space - not just space but a necessity - for self-reflection and self-criticism. Such reflection is the cause of change. We needed no message, no outright call for plurality, to prove our point. All we needed was to reach and appreciate the cacophony of voices to understand its democratic imperative. There was where Austen's danger lay.

On Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday: "These two simply appreciate one another more than either of them appreciates anyone else, and they would rather be appreciated by one another more than by anyone else. They just are at home with one another, whether or not they can ever live together under the same roof -- that is, ever find a roof they can live together under.

One jests because one wants to contemplate.

Open scatter is more fundamental than coupled sharing; it is the stuff from which, on splendid occasions, dialogue may arise.

ORESTES: Never shall I see you again. ELECTRA: Nor I see myself in your eyes. ORESTES: This, the last time I'll talk with you ever. ELECTRA: O my homeland, goodbye. Goodbye to you, women of home. ORESTES: Most loyal of sisters, do you leave now? ELECTRA: I leave with tears blurring all that I see.

Orthodoxy is the wide open field within which successful breeding can take place. If one maintains that Jesus was an eater of magic mushrooms or a Martian, then this will not make for fertility. There is not enough in common for there to be intercourse in any sense. How different can two believers be for the encounter to be fertile? This is a complex question which we do not need to explore here. Of course ultimately we must share orthodoxy, but this is not to narrow the scope of the conversation; it is to enter the broad terrain of the mystery, in which we are liberated from the tightness of ideology. It is a serious misuse of language to use the word 'orthodox' to mean conservative or, even worse, rigid. Orthodoxy does not lie in the unvarying and thoughtless repetition of received formulas. As Karl Rahner pointed out, that can be a form of heresy. Orthodoxy is speaking about our faith in ways that keep open the pilgrimage towards the mystery. Often it is hard to know immediately whether a new statement of belief is a new way of stating our faith or its betrayal. It takes time for us to tell.

Overuse at best is needless clutter; at worst, it creates the impression that the characters are overacting, emoting like silent film stars. Still, an adverb can be exactly what a sentence needs. They can add important intonation to dialogue, or subtly convey information.

Pendant des millions d'années, l'humanité a vécu comme les animaux. Par la suite, quelque chose est arrivé qui a libéré le pouvoir de notre imagination. Nous avons appris à parler et à écouter. La parole a permis la communication des idées, abilitant l'être humain à travailler ensemble afin de construire l'impossible. Les plus grandes réalisations de l'humanité se sont matérialisées en parlant, et ses plus grands échecs en ne parlant plus. Cela n'a pas lieu d'être. Nos plus grands espoirs pourraient devenir des réalités dans le futur. Avec la technologie à notre disposition, les possibilités sont illimitées. Tout ce que nous avons à faire est de s'assurer que nous continuions à parler.

People of this world are getting cleverer and cleverer," Aunty Annie announced, in a loud, emphatic voice, "But the men of our family, I'm telling you Nusrat, only Allah is their savior." -- Our Zubi Uncle

Reva often spoke about 'settling down.' That sounded like death to me. 'I'd rather be alone than anybody's live-in prostitute,' I said to Reva.

Religious fanaticism is not the only clear and present danger in our world. The greatest dangers confronting human kind are still those ancient enemies of war, poverty, ignorance and disease. These create the breeding grounds in which religious extremism flourishes, because people who have been betrayed by the world’s political and economic systems often seek refuge in the alternatives offered by religion. It is often said that the most dangerous person in the world is the person with nothing to lose. The more people in our world who have nothing to lose, the greater the danger of extremism is likely to become. If we are committed to struggling against religious fanaticism, and if we really do stand in awe of human potential, then we need to cultivate a much more intelligent debate about the role religion plays in nurturing that human potential through its shaping of ideas and through the hope and meaning it gives to many millions of lives.

Practicing dialogue helps you to cultivate a realness that allows you to face reality on its own terms, not just the terms you’d like it to have in order to remain in your comfort zone.

She couldn't or simply wouldn't understand why I wanted to sleep all the time, and she was always rubbing my nose in her moral high ground and telling me to 'face the music' about whatever bad habit I'd been stuck on at the time. The summer I started sleeping, Reva admonished me for 'squandering my bikini body.' 'Smoking kills.' 'You should get out more.' 'Are you getting enough protein in your diet?' Et cetera.

Shall I come too?" said Francis. "I might be useful. After all, I am still a doctor in the eyes of God.

She squinted at his nametag. Her eyes weren't quite working. "What's your name?" "Stig." "Stick?" she asked, half ready to believe it. He shook his head and pointed his long index finger at the name stitched on his uniform. "S-T-I-G. Stig." Harriet's breath caught. "I can't believe it. I've been looking for you.

She pursued his lips,' Zach laughs. 'Another one I misread! Pursued for "pursed." You know. She pursed her lips. So whenever you do that now, reach out and touch my lips to shut me up? I think, she pursued his lips.' 'That's so silly,' smiles Rachel. 'I know that. Now I'm pursuing your lips,' he adds. When Zach kisses her, Rachel is often aware of the pulse in his lower labial, a small heartbeat there. She is aware of a pulsing and a slight thickening of tissue. How many times has this boy bled from his mouth? How many times.

She's also in love with the 'Polish Rider'." "Who's he?" "A picture by Rembrandt.

She suggested I keep a log of my dreams as a way of tracking the 'waning intensity of suffering.' 'I don't like the term "dream journal,"' she told me at our in-person appointment in June. 'I prefer "night vision log.

...Society needs to open its collective mind to all ideas and ideologies. It needs to give its people the chance to listen to the opinions of others, and then examine them critically instead of rejecting them prematurely. Such a creative dialogue based on positive critical thinking can enhance and develop ideas.

Six saw a caterpillar.' 'What kind?' 'Green, with purple and white zigzags.' 'I see,' Thaniel said slowly. Liking children did not keep him from being perplexed by them. He was recently too old to remember his own childhood with any clarity. 'I imagine that was exciting?' She glanced up at him warily. 'No. It was just a caterpillar.

Solan is descending in the sky...

Sometimes I felt I would die by wishing it when I went to sleep but I always woke up again and found I was still there. Every morning finding I'm still me, that's hell." "Well, get out of hell then! The gate's open and I'm holding it!" "I can't. I'm hell, myself.

Sometimes I feel dead," I told her, "and I hate everybody.

Some crazy man came up to me and started screaming at me about how he hated Allah, and before I could tell him that my family was part of the Catholic Church in India, he knifed me.