#head

In Blow-up I used my head instinctively! ↗

— Michelangelo Antonioni

#i #instinctively #used

It is grievous to read the papers in most respects, I agree. More and more I skim the headlines only, for one can be sure what is carried beneath them quite automatically, if one has long been a reader of the press journalism. ↗

— Mary Ritter Beard

#automatically #been #beneath #carried #grievous

I said if I made 10 films in my life, I would be very lucky. That's how I meant it. My fear after my first one was whether they would let me make another one, so I had this goal in my head. ↗

— Luc Besson

#another #fear #films #first #goal

Listen, if you said to me, 'Adam Shankman is going to direct you in a musical and you have six months to learn how to tap,' I'd practice till I was blue in the face. I would do it because I'm so headstrong and think I can do anything. But just to show up and sing a little ditty, no. ↗

— Leslie Bibb

#anything #because #blue #direct #face

I must've got whacked on the head. He presented a totally false person for me to fall in love with. ↗

— Christie Brinkley

#false #got #head #i #love

She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head. ↗

— Janet Fitch

#introspective #thoughts #introspection

My head ached. I was thinking of the pain, and wondering how it was possible for physical agony to be so intense. I had never imagined that such a torture could be endured. Yet here was I, both conscious and able to think clearly. And not only to think, but to observe the process and make calculations about it. The steel circle round my skull was closing in with faint cracking noises. How much farther could it shrink? I counted the cracking sounds. Since I took the triple dose of pain-killer, there had been two more. …I took out my watch and laid it on the table. “Give me morphia,” I said in a calm, hostile, icy tone. “You mustn’t take morphia! You know perfectly well. The very idea! And what are you doing with that watch?” “You will give me morphia within three minutes.” They looked me uneasily up and down. No one moved. Three minutes went by. Then ten more. I slipped the watch calmly into my pocket and rose unsteadily to my feet. “Then take me to the Fiakker Bar. They say it’s a good show, and to-night I want to enjoy myself.” The others jumped up with a feeling of relief. I never confessed the secret to anyone, either then or afterwards. I had made up my mind at the end of those three minutes — for the first and last time in my life — that if my headache had not stopped within the next ten I should throw myself under the nearest tram. It never came out whether I should have kept to my resolve, for the pain left with the suddenness of lighting. ↗

— Frigyes Karinthy

#headache #pain #suicide #imagination

The head is a clumsy, ill-proportioned monstrosity. It is the understudy in a watermelon-rolling contest. ↗

— Bauvard

#heads #humor #watermelons #funny

It's my red hair that interferes with my good sense. All that color so close to my brain, it plum disorients me most days. ↗

— Kimberly Frost

#redheads #sense #humor

But I was in search of love in those days, and I went full of curiosity and the faint, unrecognized apprehension that here, at last, I should find that low door in the wall, which others, I knew, had found before me, which opened on an enclosed and enchanted garden, which was somewhere, not overlooked by any window, in the heart of that grey city. ↗

— Evelyn Waugh

#love