#page

She was wearing a beautiful dress with straps designed to be eaten off her shoulders. ↗

— Elise Valmorbida

#lust #spagetti-straps #beauty

All of a sudden, those few pages of script that he had shown me with the weird images I could visualize all of that in my brain, and I knew that there was this mad little genius at work here and I really wanted to do the film. ↗

— Jack Nance

#could #few #film #genius #had

I write five pages a day. If you would read five pages a day, we'd stay right even. ↗

— Robert B. Parker

#even #five #i #i write #pages

When we're onstage, it's like mind reading: we're on the same page. ↗

— Guy Picciotto

#mind #onstage #page #reading #same

A playwright must be his own audience. A novelist may lose his readers for a few pages; a playwright never dares lose his audience for a minute. ↗

— Terence Rattigan

#dares #few #his #lose #may

They read their sports pages, know their statistics and either root like hell or boo our butts off. I love it. Give me vocal fans, pro or con, over the tourist types who show up in Houston or Montreal and just sit there. ↗

— Mike Schmidt

#butts #con #either #fans #give

I try to gauge whether a girl likes me before I make a move. I would write a page-long note to a girl.If she wrote a whole page back, I knew she liked me, too. If she wrote back like two words, then I figured I'd move on. ↗

— Devon Werkheiser

#before #figured #gauge #girl #i

I wrote a lot of stuff quickly: pages and pages of notes that seemed pretty incoherent at first. Most of it was taken from the radio because -suddenly being a parent- I'd be confronted by the radio giving a news report every hour of the day. ↗

— Thom Yorke

#being #confronted #day #every #first

Stella scribbled in thick black texta across half the pages of my best storybook, filled with people who ventured where their hearts took them. Beautiful worlds beyond mine. ↗

— Emma Cameron

#hearts #pages #people #scribbles #storybook

After a day on Mykines, I changed my mind about life not going on. A sort of life was going on, beating with a reasonalbe version of a pulse, but that life consisted for the most part of travelers like myself. There were maybe a dozen of us -- one third of the island's population. Our tribe could only increase as the Mykines tribe dwindled away, a few falling down steps, most simply emigrating, until there would be, sad to say, only our peripatetic selves. We were the future of all places condemned by remoteness to a lingering, photogenic death. ↗

— Lawrence Millman

#change