Dark Netflix Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Dark Netflix. Here they are! All 15 of them:

The more I live, the more I binge Netflix and read overhyped novels, the more I think that knowing the ending is overrated, that the beginning and middle are enough. Answers aren’t going to change anything.
Julia Heaberlin (We Are All the Same in the Dark)
At first it was not quite dark. I could see little trees growing out of the face of the cliff, and I grabbed at them with my hands as I went down. Several times I managed to catch hold of a branch, but it always broke off at once because I was so heavy and because I was falling so fast, and once I caught a thick branch with both hands and the tree leaned forward and I heard the snapping of the roots one by one until it came away from the cliff and I went on falling. Then it became darker because the sun and the day were in the fields far away at the top of the cliff, and as I fell I kept my eyes open and watched the darkness turn from grey-black to black, from black to jet black and from jet black to pure liquid blackness which I could touch with my hands but which I could not see. But I went on falling, and it was so black that there was nothing anywhere and it was not any use doing anything or caring or thinking because of the blackness and because of the falling.
Roald Dahl (The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More: Deliciously dark adult tales soon to be a major Netflix film starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Sir Ben Kingsley Dev Patel and more!)
And it was then I began to realize for the first time that there are two distinct sides to a writer of fiction. First, there is the side he displays to the public, that of an ordinary person like anyone else, a person who does ordinary things and speaks an ordinary language. Second, there is the secret side which comes out in him only after he has closed the door of his workroom and is completely alone. It is then that he slips into another world altogether, a world where his imagination takes over and he finds himself actually living in the places he is writing about at that moment. I myself, if you want to know, fall into a kind of trance and everything around me disappears. I see only the point of my pencil moving over the paper, and quite often two hours go by as though they were a couple of seconds.
Roald Dahl (The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More: Deliciously dark adult tales soon to be a major Netflix film starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Sir Ben Kingsley Dev Patel and more!)
May 19th 2031_ Eleven months before_ I opened my eyes to see darkness and the sound of my alarm beeping. 0400 hours. I turned it off and got up. I looked for my glasses on my bedside cabinet and put them on. "Alexa, Good morning roll," I said loudly in the dark room. The lights came on and the curtains opened, the speaker turned on and started playing my Spotify playlist. I slowly got dressed and made myself breakfast. After breakfast, I downed a 500ml bottle of zero coke. I leaned to one side and burped. I looked around my kitchen. The dark marble counter and white cupboards, walls and ceiling matched with each other. I looked outside the kitchen window at the traffic down below. I was about 6 floors high, if you were to jump off from that high, there is a very high chance you might die. And if you were lucky to survive, you would be immobilised from your broken legs and hip and ribs. I turned around and sat on the black leathery sofa and switched on the TV. I looked on Netflix at old World War Two films that I could watch before bed. I scrolled through the list. From 'Dunkirk' to 'Unbroken' to a lot more films. I chose a couple and switched the TV onto the news. The reporter said that there was a knife crime in Redding earlier. I sighed but was relieved that it wasn't me. It is a low chance that I would get murdered by someone or people with knives in England but it's still a possibility. I turned the TV off and looked at my phone. There was nothing new on Discord and nothing new on WhatsApp. I checked my Snapchat and opened a few Snaps from my friends at work. I took a selfie of myself in my apartment not working. I sent it off and was happy that I don't work on
John Struckman (2032: The Beginning)
We came to the city because we wished to live haphazardly, to reach for only the least realistic of our desires, and to see if we could not learn what our failures had to teach, and not, when we came to live, discover that we had never died. We wanted to dig deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to be overworked and reduced to our last wit. And if our bosses proved mean, why then we’d evoke their whole and genuine meanness afterward over vodka cranberries and small batch bourbons. And if our drinking companions proved to be sublime then we would stagger home at dawn over the Old City cobblestones, into hot showers and clean shirts, and press onward until dusk fell again. For the rest of the world, it seemed to us, had somewhat hastily concluded that it was the chief end of man to thank God it was Friday and pray that Netflix would never forsake them. Still we lived frantically, like hummingbirds; though our HR departments told us that our commitments were valuable and our feedback was appreciated, our raises would be held back another year. Like gnats we pestered Management— who didn’t know how to use the Internet, whose only use for us was to set up Facebook accounts so they could spy on their children, or to sync their iPhones to their Outlooks, or to explain what tweets were and more importantly, why— which even we didn’t know. Retire! we wanted to shout. We ha Get out of the way with your big thumbs and your senior moments and your nostalgia for 1976! We hated them; we wanted them to love us. We wanted to be them; we wanted to never, ever become them. Complexity, complexity, complexity! We said let our affairs be endless and convoluted; let our bank accounts be overdrawn and our benefits be reduced. Take our Social Security contributions and let it go bankrupt. We’d been bankrupt since we’d left home: we’d secure our own society. Retirement was an afterlife we didn’t believe in and that we expected yesterday. Instead of three meals a day, we’d drink coffee for breakfast and scavenge from empty conference rooms for lunch. We had plans for dinner. We’d go out and buy gummy pad thai and throat-scorching chicken vindaloo and bento boxes in chintzy, dark restaurants that were always about to go out of business. Those who were a little flush would cover those who were a little short, and we would promise them coffees in repayment. We still owed someone for a movie ticket last summer; they hadn’t forgotten. Complexity, complexity. In holiday seasons we gave each other spider plants in badly decoupaged pots and scarves we’d just learned how to knit and cuff links purchased with employee discounts. We followed the instructions on food and wine Web sites, but our soufflés sank and our baked bries burned and our basil ice creams froze solid. We called our mothers to get recipes for old favorites, but they never came out the same. We missed our families; we were sad to be rid of them. Why shouldn’t we live with such hurry and waste of life? We were determined to be starved before we were hungry. We were determined to be starved before we were hungry. We were determined to decrypt our neighbors’ Wi-Fi passwords and to never turn on the air-conditioning. We vowed to fall in love: headboard-clutching, desperate-texting, hearts-in-esophagi love. On the subways and at the park and on our fire escapes and in the break rooms, we turned pages, resolved to get to the ends of whatever we were reading. A couple of minutes were the day’s most valuable commodity. If only we could make more time, more money, more patience; have better sex, better coffee, boots that didn’t leak, umbrellas that didn’t involute at the slightest gust of wind. We were determined to make stupid bets. We were determined to be promoted or else to set the building on fire on our way out. We were determined to be out of our minds.
Kristopher Jansma (Why We Came to the City)
You’re a child,” Joe snaps back. “He’s not my boyfriend. This man is more to me than you can dream. He’s the moon when I’m lost in darkness, and warmth when I shiver in cold. And his kiss still thrills me even after a millennium. His heart overflows with a kindness of which this world is not worthy. I love this man beyond measure and reason. He’s not my boyfriend. He is all, and he is more.
The Old Guard- Netflix
In shadowy woods the burnished lake Darkly complained a secret pain, By circling shores embraced again; And heaven’s clear sun leaned down to take A road astray in azure deeps, Like burning tears the lover weeps.
Jaroslav Kalfar (Spaceman of Bohemia: NOW A MAJOR NETFLIX FILM)
Hey youngster, I didn’t catch your name.” I paused for only a second, continuing to look down the valley at the small town. “I didn’t throw it.
Craig Johnson (The Dark Horse: An engrossing instalment of the best-selling, award-winning series - now a hit Netflix show! (Walt Longmire Book 5))
Das Leben ist ein Labyrinth. Manche irren darin bis zu ihrem Ende herum und suchen nach einem Ausweg. Dabei gibt es nur einen Weg und der führt immer tiefer hinein. Erst wenn man die Mitte erreicht hat, wird man verstehen. Der Tod ist etwas Unbegreifliches, aber man kann sich mit ihm vesröhnen. Bis dahin solltest du Dich jeden Tag fragen, ob du die richtige Entscheidung getroffen hast. - Der Fremde
Dark (Netflix)
Die Wahrheit ist ein seltsames Ding. Man kann versuchen, sie zu unterdrücken, aber sie findet immer ihren Weg an die Oberfläche. Wir machen eine Lüge zu unserer Wahrheit, um zu überleben. Versuchen, zu vergessen. Bis es nicht mehr geht. Wir kennen nicht einmal die Hälfte der Mysterien dieser Welt. Wir sind Wanderer in der Dunkelheit. - Michael
Dark (Netflix)
Me: But I need to finish Netflix. My editor: Finish what on Netflix? Me: Just finish Netflix. All of it. I think I’m close. My editor: You can’t finish Netflix. Me: Well, that sounds like a challenge. Also, clearly you haven’t had the same pandemic I have.
Jenny Lawson (I Choose Darkness)
I get the bedroom and Netflix, you wander the island to check on your hidden horcruxes." "You know in order to create a horcruxx you have to have murdered someone, right?" I stare up at him, hating the tiny fluttering that get going in my chest because he knows the Harry Potter reference. I knew he was a book lover, but to be the same kind of book lover I am? It makes my insides melt. "You just made my joke very dark, Ethan.
Christina Lauren (The Unhoneymooners (Unhoneymooners, #1))
In its place had arisen a Promised Land of Duane Reades and Chase ATMs on every corner, luxury doorman buildings, Pilates studios and spin classes, eighteen-dollar rosemary-infused cocktails and seven-dollar cups of single-origin coffee—all of which were there to cater to a new generation of twentysomethings, the data scientists and brand strategists and software engineers and social media managers and product leads and marketing associates and IT coordinators ready to disrupt the world with apps. And today, like every day, they would work until it was dark again, and then they would go to dinner parties or secret cocktail bars or rooftop events, and most of them would end the night watching Netflix on their laptops in bed" - Prologue, Save Your Generation, in Doree Shafrir's Startup
Doree Shafrir (Startup)
Me: Hypothetical question. 
Mystery Date: Okay, shoot. 
Me: If someone were to carry five very heavy bags of groceries from their car to their apartment. Then proceed to spend hours baking cupcakes. Does that and clicking the button to let Netflix know they haven’t gotten their life together and are still watching while eating said cupcakes, count as exercise? 
Me: Asking for a friend, of course. ;)
Alexandria Bishop (Dating in the Dark (Dating, #1))
The TV was off and I could see a book face down on the coffee table. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I thought of Ella Elphick, sitting in the dark with her herbal tea. Someone really should teach these women about Netflix.
Elly Griffiths (The Stranger Diaries (Harbinder Kaur, #1))