Quotes from literature (or other sources)

[+ Charlie]

“A custom more honored in the breach than the observance” is one I’m still trying to work into everyday conversation.

 

Same for “To the manner born.” First time I heard it, before The Prince of Denmark, was in the film “The Talented Mr. Ripley” (it was said by Gwyneth Paltrow). (I was actually able to use this one with a client I deemed to be from a patrician background — all signs pointed to it — but he then informed me that he had built himself “from the ground up.”)

An alternative form is "to the manor born," which is slightly more appropriate to the situation you mention.

[loremipsum]

An alternative form is "to the manor born," which is slightly more appropriate to the situation you mention.

 

https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/to-the-manner-born.html

 

This brief explication lays it out. “To the manor born” most likely arose out of a misspelling of “manner,” or it was a deliberate play on words that became popular. “To the manor born” would certainly seem at least as equally correct as the original, as someone born in a manor or to a family owning one would likely be predestined to live a privileged life, but it certainly appears that the “manner” version came first and is more accepted.

[+ poolboy48220]

“A custom more honored in the breach than the observance” is one I’m still trying to work into everyday conversation.

Some Star Trek book I read referred to the Prime Directive that way.

[loremipsum]

Some Star Trek book I read referred to the Prime Directive that way.

 

I’m not at all a Trekkie, so I had to look up “Prime Directive” to discern how the quote fits contextually, how the Prime Directive would be either breached or observed. Reminds me very much of the sociological concept of colonization. Cool.

 

This then led me to the “zoo hypothesis” — a little compelling.

 

I can spend days on Wikipedia. One concept leads me to a sub-concept or a related one, and it snowballs into an infinite wormhole, branching out into YouTube videos and JSTOR articles (to which I regrettably no longer have access). Almost at all times do I have around 50 tabs open on my laptop and all 500 available tabs on my iPhone. It’s sort of a problem.

[loremipsum]

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter; tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther, and then one fine morning —

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

[+ E.T.Bass]

Quoting from a screenplay, a comedy.

 

Can you guess the movie from this quote, without Googling?

 

I love this movie. The scene is quite well known.

 

It shakes me. It quakes me. It makes me feel goose pimpley all over.

I don't know where I am, or who I am. Or what I'm doing.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't ever stop.

 

Why did you stop?

 

You know why I stopped.

 

Why?

 

Because.

Because now I'm going to take you in my arms and kiss you, very quickly and very hard.

 

 

 

If you give up, there is a clue far below.

EDIT: Adding an additional clue. The scene is a fantasy sequence. E.g. The actress character doesn't really say the lines. The actor, not really playing the piano, Rachmaninoff, is conjuring in his mind his hot neighbor, drawn to the music.

 

 

 

 

 

Good ol' Rachmaninoff. The 2nd Piano Concerto. Never misses.

Edited October 13, 2019 by E.T.Bass

[loremipsum]

Quoting from a screenplay, a comedy.

 

Can you guess the movie from this quote, without Googling?

 

I love this movie. The scene quite is well known.

 

It shakes me. It quakes me. It makes me feel goose pimpley all over.

I don't know where I am, or who I am. Or what I'm doing.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't ever stop.

 

Why did you stop?

 

You know why I stopped.

 

Why?

 

Because.

Because now I'm going to take you in my arms and kiss you, very quickly and very hard.

 

 

 

If you give up, there is a clue far below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Good ol' Rachmaninoff. The 2nd Piano Concerto. Never misses.

 

No clue. Kindly edify. ?

[+ poolboy48220]

I'm normally very, very good at movie quotes but had to google this one. Is it...

 

The Seven Year Itch?[\SPOILER]

 

[+ poolboy48220]

The Burgess sisters arrived together. Tara and Lainie do a little bit of everything. Sometimes dancers, sometimes actresses. Once they were librarians, but that is a subject they will only discuss if heavily intoxicated. ― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

[+ E.T.Bass]

No clue. Kindly edify. ?

I added a 2nd clue.

 

Also, quite famous actress.

[loremipsum]

I added a 2nd clue.

 

Also, quite famous actress.

 

Had to look up.

 

Here, in turn, is a (film) challenge for you:

I love you.

So what.

So what? So plenty! I love you! You belong to me!

No. People don't belong to people.

Of course they do!

I'll never let anybody put me in a cage.

I don't want to put you in a cage. I want to love you!

It's the same thing!

[+ E.T.Bass]

I'm normally very, very good at movie quotes but had to google this one. Is it...

 

The Seven Year Itch?[\SPOILER]

 

Had to look up.

 

Here, in turn, is a (film) challenge for you:

 

I love you.

 

So what.

 

So what? So plenty! I love you! You belong to me!

 

No. People don't belong to people.

 

Of course they do!

 

I'll never let anybody put me in a cage.

 

I don't want to put you in a cage. I want to love you!

 

It's the same thing!

 

Since you've looked it up I hope you had a chance to view this clip.

 

 

@loremipsum your quote intrigues me. I admit I may not recall this one without a clue.

[loremipsum]

Since you've looked it up I hope you had a chance to view this clip.

 

 

@loremipsum your quote intrigues me. I admit I may not recall this one without a clue.

 

I’ll give you three because I’m “gen”: 1) it’s said in a movie whose opening scene is a slim woman in a little black dress eating pastry and window-shopping, 2) the two main characters in the film are essentially escorts, and 3) the film contains a controversial, stereotypically-Asian character played by a very famous actor who was white, which only compounded the controversy.

[+ E.T.Bass]

I’ll give you three because I’m “gen”: 1) it’s said in a movie whose opening scene is a slim woman in a little black dress eating pastry and window-shopping, 2) the two main characters in the film are essentially escorts, and 3) the film contains a controversial, stereotypically-Asian character played by a very famous actor who was white, which only compounded the controversy.

Thank you for being "gen." Yeah the window shopping gave it away. Haven't seen that one in a long, long time and now i want to.

[loremipsum]

Thank you for being "gen." Yeah the window shopping gave it away. Haven't seen that one in a long, long time and now i want to.

 

Apparently the scene was difficult to film because of Hepburn’s aversion to Danish pastry. Lore has it that she objected and wished to lick an ice cream cone instead.

[+ E.T.Bass]

Two quotes from a favorite book. At Swim, Two Boys

 

 

 

He asked me once, Doyler did — well, it doesn't matter what he asked. But I couldn't. I was just plain too frightened. I couldn't, even though I wanted to, sure I wanted to kiss him. There, I've told you now.

&

Forget your baths, come swimming in the sea. It's different in the sea, don't ask me why, but you don't find the same anywheres else. There's a freedom I can't explain, like your troubles was left in your pile of clothes

 

 

The 2nd quote reminds me of when I see surfers crossing to the beach, their wet suits on, how serene they look, and their smiling faces. I believe it was Mary Renault or her biographers that wrote about it as well, the carefree look of the blonde boys that surfed at the beach in South Africa, across from Renault's bungalow at Camps Bay in Cape Town.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[loremipsum]

“How to Tell a True War Story” (1990)

by Tim O’Brien

 

This is true.

I had a buddy in Vietnam. His name was Bob Kiley but everybody called him Rat.

A friend of his gets killed, so about a week later Rat sits down and writes a letter to the

guy’s sister. Rat tells her what a great brother she had, how strack the guy was, a number one pal and comrade. A real soldier’s soldier, Rat says. Then he tells a few stories to make the point, how her brother would always volunteer for stuff nobody else would volunteer for in a million years, dangerous stuff, like doing recon or going out on these really badass night patrols. Stainless steel balls, Rat tells her. The guy was a little crazy, for sure, but crazy in a good way, a real daredevil, because he liked the challenge of it, he liked testing himself, just man against gook. A great, great guy, Rat says.

Anyway, it’s a terrific letter, very personal and touching. Rat almost bawls writing it. He gets all teary telling about the good times they had together, how her brother made the war seem almost fun, always raising hell and lighting up villes and bringing smoke to bear every which way. A great sense of humor, too. Like the time at this river when he went fishing with a whole damn crate of hand grenades. Probably the funniest thing in world history, Rat says, all that gore, about twenty zillion dead gook fish. Her brother, he had the right attitude. He knew how to have a good time. On Halloween, this real hot spooky night, the dude paints up his body all different colors and puts on this weird mask and goes out on ambush almost stark naked, just boots and balls and an M-16. A tremendous human being, Rat says. Pretty nutso sometimes, but you could trust him with your life.

And then the letter gets very sad and serious. Rat pours his heart out. He says he loved the guy. He says the guy was his best friend in the world. They were like soul mates, he says, like twins or something, they had a whole lot in common. He tells the guy’s sister he’ll look her up when the war’s over.

So what happens?

Rat mails the letter. He waits two months. The dumb cooze never writes back.

A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things they have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue. As a first rule of thumb, therefore, you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil. Listen to Rat Kiley. Cooze, he says. He does not say bitch. He certainly does not say woman, or girl, He says cooze. Then he spits and stares. He’s nineteen years old—it’s too much for him—so he looks at you with those big gentle, killer eyes and says cooze, because his friend is dead, and because it’s so incredibly sad and true: she never wrote back.

You can tell a true war story if it embarrasses you. If you don’t care for obscenity, you don’t care for the truth; if you don’t care for the truth, watch how you vote. Send guys to war, they come home talking dirty.

Listen to Rat: “Jesus Christ, man, I write this beautiful fucking letter, I slave over it, and what happens? The dumb cooze never writes back.”

[mike carey]

Holy fuck, @loremipsum you are fast becoming my favourite poster here. I'll soon want to meet you.

[loremipsum]

Since you've looked it up I hope you had a chance to view this clip.

 

 

I rather thought that this was pretty abysmal acting on her part until I saw the comments that indicated that it’s comedic.

[+ E.T.Bass]

I rather thought that this was pretty abysmal acting on her part until I saw the comments that indicated that it’s comedic.

She won a BAFTA. Wilder won too. Golden Globe? Since that scene is conjured in his mind it was entirely over the top. I love it.

Edited October 14, 2019 by E.T.Bass

[loremipsum]

“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”

 

said by Philip Seymour Hoffman in Almost Famous

[loremipsum]

Thank you for being "gen." Yeah the window shopping gave it away. Haven't seen that one in a long, long time and now i want to.

 

And incidentally, you can now actually have breakfast at Tiffany and Co., for they have opened their Blue Box Café. Cheers to $29 avocado toast.

[+ WilliamM]

@loremipsum, wrote "How to Tell a True War Story” (1990)

by Tim O’Brien

 

This is true.

I had a buddy in Vietnam. His name was Bob Kiley but everybody called him Rat.

A friend of his gets killed, so about a week later Rat sits down and writes a letter to the

guy’s sister. Rat tells her what a great brother she had, how strack the guy was, a number one pal and comrade. A real soldier’s soldier, Rat says. Then he tells a few stories to make the point, how her brother would always volunteer for stuff.

 

__________________

My take away from Tim O'Brien:

 

No wonder she did not reply. He could have written that her brother often volunteered to help, and left out "dangerous missions."

Edited October 15, 2019 by WilliamM

[+ E.T.Bass]

“How to Tell a True War Story” (1990)

by Tim O’Brien

 

This is true.

I had a buddy in Vietnam. His name was Bob Kiley but everybody called him Rat.

A friend of his gets killed, so about a week later Rat sits down and writes a letter to the

guy’s sister. Rat tells her what a great brother she had, how strack the guy was, a number one pal and comrade. A real soldier’s soldier, Rat says. Then he tells a few stories to make the point, how her brother would always volunteer for stuff nobody else would volunteer for in a million years, dangerous stuff, like doing recon or going out on these really badass night patrols. Stainless steel balls, Rat tells her. The guy was a little crazy, for sure, but crazy in a good way, a real daredevil, because he liked the challenge of it, he liked testing himself, just man against gook. A great, great guy, Rat says.

Anyway, it’s a terrific letter, very personal and touching. Rat almost bawls writing it. He gets all teary telling about the good times they had together, how her brother made the war seem almost fun, always raising hell and lighting up villes and bringing smoke to bear every which way. A great sense of humor, too. Like the time at this river when he went fishing with a whole damn crate of hand grenades. Probably the funniest thing in world history, Rat says, all that gore, about twenty zillion dead gook fish. Her brother, he had the right attitude. He knew how to have a good time. On Halloween, this real hot spooky night, the dude paints up his body all different colors and puts on this weird mask and goes out on ambush almost stark naked, just boots and balls and an M-16. A tremendous human being, Rat says. Pretty nutso sometimes, but you could trust him with your life.

And then the letter gets very sad and serious. Rat pours his heart out. He says he loved the guy. He says the guy was his best friend in the world. They were like soul mates, he says, like twins or something, they had a whole lot in common. He tells the guy’s sister he’ll look her up when the war’s over.

So what happens?

Rat mails the letter. He waits two months. The dumb cooze never writes back.

A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things they have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue. As a first rule of thumb, therefore, you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil. Listen to Rat Kiley. Cooze, he says. He does not say bitch. He certainly does not say woman, or girl, He says cooze. Then he spits and stares. He’s nineteen years old—it’s too much for him—so he looks at you with those big gentle, killer eyes and says cooze, because his friend is dead, and because it’s so incredibly sad and true: she never wrote back.

You can tell a true war story if it embarrasses you. If you don’t care for obscenity, you don’t care for the truth; if you don’t care for the truth, watch how you vote. Send guys to war, they come home talking dirty.

Listen to Rat: “Jesus Christ, man, I write this beautiful fucking letter, I slave over it, and what happens? The dumb cooze never writes back.”

Talk of war here and in The Guardian about the remains finally laid to rest last week near

reminded me of

the WWI epic Flower of Iowa, by Lance Ringel.

 

An ambitious war story that still brings a lump in my throat when I remember the Yank and his Tommy.

 

The depth of this display of emotion caught the attention of most of the solarium. Even Sister Jean was surprised by the ferocity of it. But unlike many of the wounded Tommies, she did not look askance upon the outburst. Turning toward the other soldiers, she said in a fair imitation of a sergeant, “All right, men. Leave them be now.”

[loremipsum]