Best 376 quotes in «dialogue quotes» category

In looking at our our individual classroom pedagogies and our isolated artistic endeavors, we must broaden the frame of analysis to consider historical, contextual and institutional assumptions. This means a constant awareness of how the micro-practices of interpersonal dialogue and embodied ways of knowing each other can provide an impetus fro structural change.

In many of the films now being made, there is very little cinema: they are mostly what I call 'photographs of people talking.' When we tell a story in cinema we should resort to dialogue only when it's impossible to do otherwise. I always try to tell a story in the cinematic way, through a succession of shots and bits of film in between.

I nod seriously, "Supes." "You're mocking me." "A little bit." "People say supes!" "What people?" "I can't believe you're shaming me right now. I'm very sensitive about my use of cool vernacular." "Then we're good. Because you haven't used any." I flash a grin.

In the days approaching Christmas, she always reminds me of the previous year: 'Jane crocheted you an entire poncho, and all you gave her was a bone-shaped beach stone.

I realized that my life of late had consisted of far too much dialogue and not enough exposition. I imagined an angry, bespectacled English teacher slashing his pen through the transcript of my life, wondering how someone could possibly say so much and think so little.

I said, "Your brother is in bed with my wife." I added, "I just took them up some wine in bed.

I said she's not thick, kid. I didn't say she was Professor fucking Moriarty.

Is it white wine? Red tastes like vinegar.' 'Of course it's white wine, I'm Japanese.

Is this about what happened to you and the old Sector 7?” I asked with a growl of my own. His hands tightened their grip on my shoulders. “How did you know about that?” “Tabby-Chan told me.” “Freaking Meko-Chan,” Kuroi uttered, “I swear, that kid is gonna get it. What did she tell you, exactly?” “She told me not to tell you that she told me what you told her.” I realized what I said. “Oops.” ~Luna's POV, Clash of the Clans: Shinobi 7 Companion Book #1

Is that a quotation?" "Only from me.

I think I have insomnia. That's my main issue." "You're probably addicted to caffeine, too, am I right?" "I don't know." "You better keep drinking it. If you quit now, you'll just go crazy.

I suspect the study of English literature is doing you no good, it's full of all sorts of romantic high-flown nonsense. You've been reading Shelley." "I plead guilty to that crime.

I told you I was going to retire from the world. That's still on. You remember that.

I think this goat must have been fed on old boots,' Stubble complained as he chewed the last scraps of flesh from the bones littering his stew.

It is not summer, England doesn't have summer, it has continuous autumn with a fortnight's variation here and there.

I think one should pay so much attention to technique, don't you? Like learning to draw before you paint.

It is only through dialogue, deep listening, and passionate disagreement that we find our way to something larger than a singular and isolated point of view.

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.

It's extraordinary, the amount of misunderstandings there are even between two people who discuss a thing quite often - both of them assuming different things and neither of them discovering the discrepancy.

It's madness — " "Madness is where we live now.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

... 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.

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

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?

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?

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.