#som

You can't get an actor to do something that is beyond his range, so you have to be aware of the range of the actor and, if necessary, alter the part to suit the actor. ↗

— John Boorman

#alter #aware #beyond #get #his

My only regret about being gay is that I repressed it for so long. I surrendered my youth to the people I feared when I could have been out there loving someone. Don't make that mistake yourself. Life's too damn short. ↗

— Armistead Maupin

#been #being #could #damn #feared

Personal effects: how irrelevant they are, how sad, how lost, how vagrant, without the force that gives them purpose. ↗

— Sarah Hall

#life #losing-someone #personal-effects #death

My kids are fanatical about 'Scooby-Doo,' and I think that the creators of 'Scooby-Doo' somehow tripped across some kind of magical hypnotic formula that lures children. It's far more fascinating to them than anything else on the air. ↗

— Dave Willis

#across #air #anything #children #creators

Life is short, have dessert first. ↗

— Joan Smith

#life

I feel that I belong to the 19th century. Some composers' music is very topical. It almost says, 'This is about what I read in newspapers yesterday.' Not mine. ↗

— Gordon Getty

#about #almost #belong #century #composers

The human young must learn to perceive these affordances, in some degree at least, but the young of some animals do not have time to learn the ones that are crucial for survival. ↗

— James J. Gibson

#degree #human #learn #least #must

What some call health, if purchased by perpetual anxiety about diet, isn't much better than tedious disease. ↗

— Alexander Pope

#about #anxiety #better #call #disease

I feel like I'm in a bad dream and I can't wake up ↗

— Sherri Lee Emmons

#dream #nightmare #the-sometimes-daughter #dreams

Perhaps it's something other than insomnia, to lie listening to children yelling as if they've re-created light; to try to dream, but succeed only in remembering; to toss and sweat in a dirty paste of sheets, while the drone of a ball game is gradually replaced by the buzz of a fly -- a fly buzzing like the empty frequencies between stations as its shadow grows enormous between the shade and windowpane. Is it insomnia for a man to wad his ears with the cotton from a pill bottle, to mask his eyes with blinders, and press a stale pillow over his head, praying for another day to burn down, so he can wake into another night? ↗

— Stuart Dybek

#dreams