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T Quotes

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All T Quotes

“That movie [A Series of Unfortunate Events] told four books in two hours, and we have two hours per book. So we have eight hours to tell four books, and if people watch we'll get to tell more of them. There's only thirteen books, so there's only going to be two more seasons, but that allows for a lot of time to be in character and to maintain character.”

“That movie was my girlfriend. That was my girl." I knew there was going to be initial anger. As a matter of fact, when I was deciding to do Footloose that was one of the first things that I had to realize. First of all, I had to figure out a human connection to it but then I also had to reconcile that I was going to get beat up a little bit on this a little bit.”

“That Mujib [Rahiman] had been arrested I found out at eight in the morning, when I left. How did I take it? I was glad he was alive and I thought they might have maltreated him a little. Then I thought that his arrest might help to reach a compromise. They wouldn't keep him in prison more than a month or two, and in the meantime we'd be able to bring back law and order.”

“That must be my surgeon coming aboard. You will like him; a reading man too, most amazing learned; a full-blown physician into the bargain, and my particular friend. But I must tell you this, Yorke; he is wealthy – ‘ In point of fact Captain Aubrey had little idea of his surgeon’s fortune, apart from knowing that he owned a good deal of hilly land in Catalonia with a tumbledown castle on it. But Stephen had done pretty well out of the Mauritius campaign; his manner of living was Spartan – one suit of clothes every five years and perhaps a couple of shirts – and apart from books he had no visible expenses at all. Jack was no Macchiavel, but he did know that to the rich it should be given; that capital possessed a mystical significance; that even the most perfectly disinterested respected it and its owner; and that although a naval surgeon was ordinarily a person of no great consequence, the same man moved into quite a different category the moment he was endowed with comfortable private means. In short, that whereas an ordinary surgeon, living on his pay, might not readily be indulged in room for exotic livestock, an imperfectly- preserved giant squid, and several tons of natural specimens, in a stranger’s ship, a wealthy natural philosopher might meet with more consideration; and Jack knew how Stephen prized the collection he had made during their arduous voyage. ‘ – he is wealthy, and he only comes with me because of the opportunities for natural philosophy; though he is a first-rate surgeon, too, and we are lucky to have him. But this voyage the opportunities have been prodigious, and he has turned the Leopard into a down-right Ark. Most of the Desolation creatures are stuffed or pickled but there are some from New Holland that skip and bound about: I hope you are not too crowded in La Fleche?”

“That, my dear detective, was the other San Francisco. You've probably seen it before, just out of the corner of your eye. You've probably dismissed it all your life. Maybe you always told yourself you'd just had too much to drink." She paused, her gaze heavy on his face. MacMillian squirmed. "But I'm guessing you always knew better." His head was throbbing. He shook it once, twice, but it didn't clear. "I don't get it, Miss..." "Alan," she supplied. He nodded. "Ms. Alan. Why are you here?" Her eyes darkened. "Because there are things that go bump in the night, Mr. MacMillian. It's my job to bump back.”

“That, my friend, I do not tell.' 'Nonsense. Why not?' Poirot's eyes twinkled. 'Because, mon cher, you are the same old Hastings. You have still the speaking countenance. I do not wish, you see, that you should sit staring at X with your mouth hanging open, your face saying plainly: "This -- this that I am looking at -- is a murderer." ' 'You might give me credit for a little dissimulation at need.' 'When you try to dissimulate, it is worse. No, no, mon ami, we must be very incognito you and I. Then, when we pounce, we pounce.' -”

“That myth--that image of the madonna-mother--has disabled us from knowing that, just as men are more than fathers, women are morethan mothers. It has kept us from hearing their voices when they try to tell us their aspirations . . . kept us from believing that they share with men the desire for achievement, mastery, competence--the desire to do something for themselves.”

“That mythical being, the most beautiful woman in the world, now has light skin chemically darkened with dihydroxyacetone, the chemical used in artificial tanner. (It is important that she begins as light before the darkening – she cannot simply be dark.) She has had her nose broken and reconstructed to be straight and small, and her lips injected with synthetic hyaluronic acid, whilst fat has been beaten out of her body and redistributed to her hips, bum and breasts to create a more exaggerated curve, not dissimilar to that of Sarah Baartman. Everywhere else she is athletic and lean – her stomach is flat and tight. She cannot simply be curvaceous or lean, she must be both and neither. She must be constructed. All of the hair on her body has been removed with a laser whilst her teeth have been filed down into fangs and replaced with porcelain, electric white. She wears the hair of an Asian woman sewn close to her scalp, and her eyes have been stapled up at the outer corner. Where is she from, people ask. Where does the most beautiful woman in the world call home? She laughs coyly, flashing her dazzling smile, but says nothing. She says nothing when women are murdered by their governments for showing their long, luscious hair. Or when dark-skinned women, the ones with no use for the chemical dye, are killed in their homes by those meant to protect them. She does not discuss the teeth knocked out of women’s skulls by their partners or the little girls sexualised for the same features she parades, created from artifice. She is quiet when girls are bullied for their body hair, for their belly rolls and their burdensome bodies. She does not comment on the women of colour calling out for somewhere to belong, a space that’s truly theirs. She claims nowhere whilst taking everywhere, and she says nothing. She has no politics, no culture, no real stance on anything. She consumes but she does not contend (unless it can be made into content). Why should she? She’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“That name was a kind of joke, and not a very good one. An author, Leon Lederman, wanted to call it 'that goddamn particle' because it was clear it was going to be a tough job finding it experimentally. His editor wouldn't have that, and he said 'okay, call it the God particle', and the editor accepted it. I don't think he should've have done, because it's so misleading.”

“That nameless and infinitely delicate aroma of inexpressible tenderness and attentiveness which, in every refined and honorable attachment, is contemporary with the courtship, and precedes the final banns and the rite; but which, like the bouquet of the costliest German wines, too often evaporates upon pouring love out to drink, in the disenchanting glasses of the matrimonial days and nights.”

“That narrow stretch of sand knows nothing in the world better than it does the white waves that whip it , caress it , collapse on to it . The white foam knows nothing better than those sands which wait for it , rise to it and suck it in .but what do the waves know of the massed, hot, still sands of the desert just twenty , no , ten feet beyond the scalloped edge ? And what does the beach knows of depths, the cold, the currents just there, where-do you see it? - Where the water turns a deeper blue.”

“That nations that have gone for equality, like Communism, have neither freedom nor justice nor equality, they've the greatest inequalities of all, the privileges of the politicians are far greater compared with the ordinary folk than in any other country. The nations that have gone for freedom, justice and independence of people have still freedom and justice, and they have far more equality between their people, far more respect for each individual than the other nations. Go my way. You will get freedom and justice and much less difference between people than you do in the Soviet Union.”

“That necklace," he said. Polly looked down to where her silver cat was hanging on the long chain. It needed a polish, she realized. She told him the story about the Victorian rattle, but when she'd finished he said, "I meant the little bird. Where did you find it?" Polly smiled. "Actually," she said, "I really did find it. Today, just before I met Kurt. I spotted it on the ground while I was walking. The sunlight caught on a piece of silver ribbon that must once have been tied to it and drew my eye." He was nodding. "Near the water hole?" She wondered how he knew, and then realized that of course Kurt must have told him where they'd met. "I like to collect things from nature. I'm always on the lookout. It's a hobby; my daughter and I used to beachcomb when she was small... I thought it was a stone at first, or a smooth seedpod. But it wasn't. It was this most perfect little bird. A wren, I think." "A fairy wren. We have a lot of them around here." "A fairy wren," said Polly, liking the name very much. "There was something almost magical about it. It was just lying there, as if it had been waiting for me to find it. I suppose that sounds silly." "Not at all." "I can be a bit of a romantic." "A fine trait. We'd have no books or music or paintings if not for the romantics among us.”

“That nervous energy that makes people like you and I want and go after everything in the world - bump our heads on all the hard walls and scratch our hands on all the briars - but it makes living great - doesn't it - I'm glad I want everything in the world - good and bad - bitter and sweet - I want it all and a lot of it too”