Don Corleone Quotes

He smelled the garden, the yellow shield of light smote his eyes, and he whispered, "Life is so beautiful." ... Yes, he thought, if I can die saying, "Life is so beautiful," then nothing else is important.

Why should I be afraid now? Strange men have come to kill me ever since I was twelve years old.

Tom, don't let anybody kid you. It's all personal, every bit of business. Every piece of shit every man has to eat every day of his life is personal. They call it business. OK. But it's personal as hell. You know where I learned that from? The Don. My old man. The Godfather. If a bolt of lightning hit a friend of his the old man would take it personal. He took my going into the Marines personal. That's what makes him great. The Great Don. He takes everything personal Like God. He knows every feather that falls from the tail of a sparrow or however the hell it goes? Right? And you know something? Accidents don't happen to people who take accidents as a personal insult.

Friendship is more than talent. It is more than government. It is almost the equal of family. Never forget that. If you had built up a wall of friendship you wouldn't have to ask me to help. - Don Corleone

The other Dons in the room applauded and rose to shake hands with everybody in sight and to congratulate Don Corleone and Don Tattaglia on their new friendship. It was not perhaps the warmest friendship in the world, they would not send each other Christmas gift greetings, but they would not murder each other. That was friendship enough in this world, all that was needed.

No, that's not possible," Michael said. "Killed, yes; jail, no.

..for Justice, we must go to Don Corleone.

Wasn't it true that Sometimes the greatest misfortunes brought unforseen rewards? -Don Corleone

Don Corleone did this by putting a pistol to the forehead of the band leader and assuring him with the utmost seriousness that either his signature or his brains would rest on that document in exactly one minute. Les Halley signed.

For justice we must go on our knees to Don Corleone.

no longer fearing the cost. “For justice we must go on our knees to Don Corleone.

It was not necessary that he be your friend, it was not even important that you had no means with which to repay him. Only one thing was required. That you, you yourself, proclaim your friendship. And then, no matter how poor or powerless the supplicant, Don Corleone would take that man’s troubles to his heart.

— Nunca se aborreça — Don Corleone o havia instruído. — Nunca faça uma ameaça. Argumente com as pessoas.

Brando said he'd noticed that powerful people spoke quietly, and Don Corleone's quiet calm and nearly inaudible speaking voice are key to the character. When Corleone speaks, you have to be quiet to hear him. What can we learn from Don Corleone (that doesn't involve killing people)? That quiet does have its own power, if we harness it.

Don Vito Corleone was a man to whom everybody came for help, and never were they disappointed. He made no empty promises, nor the craven excuse that his hands were tied by more powerful forces in the world than himself.

Here's a lesson for you, Sonny: Don't write if you can talk, don' talk if you can nod your head, don't nod if you don't have to

Don Corleone had promised his godson he would get the part and Don Corleone had never, to Hagen's knowledge, broken his word in such matters.

Don Corleone was too weak to speak much but he wished to listen and exercise veto powers.

It pleased him to see the hurt look on her face, the tears springing into her eyes. She might be a daughter of the Great Don but she was his wife, she was his property now and he could treat her as he pleased. It made him feel powerful that one of the Corleones was his doormat.

He knew that if he did not inform to the police a warm welcome would be his when he left prison. There would be a party waiting in his home, the best of food, homemade ravioli, wine, pastries, with all his friends and relatives gathered to rejoice in his freedom. And sometime during the night the Consigliori, Genco Abbandando, or perhaps even the Don himself, would drop by to pay his respects to such a stalwart, take a glass of wine in his honor, and leave a handsome present of money so that he could enjoy a week or two of leisure with his family before returning to his daily toil. Such was the infinite sympathy and understanding of Don Corleone.

There is no point in an adult male’s life when he can be excused from carrying his own weight, except when he is sick, injured, handicapped or old. Human societies accommodate all of these exceptions, but competency has always been crucial to a man’s mental health and sense of his own worth. Men want to carry their own weight, and they should be expected to. As Don Corleone might put it, women and children could afford to be careless for most of human history, but not men. Men have always had to demonstrate to the group that they could carry their own weight. Until

He had no illusions about the dangerousness of his mission. He spent the first year meeting with different chiefs of gangs in New York, laying the groundwork, sounding them out, proposing spheres of influence that would be honored by a loosely bound confederated council. But there were too many factions, too many special interests that conflicted. Agreement was impossible. Like other great rulers and lawgivers in history Don Corleone decided that order and peace were impossible until the number of reigning states had been reduced to a manageable number.

Una vez había oído decir a Don Corleone que un abogado, con su cartera de mano, podía robar más que un centenar de hombres con metralletas.

Marlon Brando wanted to make Don Corleone ‘look like a bulldog’, so he stuffed his cheeks with cotton wool for the audition. For actual filming, he wore a mouthpiece made by a dentist;

Kay laughed. “Then why do you go every single morning?” In a completely natural way, Mama Corleone said, “I go for my husband,” she pointed down toward the floor, “so he don’t go down there.” She paused. “I say prayers for his soul every day so he go up there.” She pointed heavenward.

Don’t write if you can talk, don’t talk if you can nod your head, don’t nod your head if you don’t have to.

For the first time the Don showed annoyance. He poured another glass of anisette and drank it down. He pointed a finger at his son. "You want to learn," he said. "Now listen to me. A man's first duty is to keep himself alive. Then comes what everyone else calls honor. This dishonor, as you call it, I willingly take upon myself. I did it to save your life as you once took on dishonor to save mine. You would have never left Sicily alive without Don Croce's protection. So be it. Do you want to be a hero like Guiliano, a legend? And dead? I love him as the son of my dear friends, but I do not envy him his fame. You are alive and he is dead. Always remember that and live your life not be be a hero but to remain alive. With time, heroes seem a little foolish." Michael sighed. "Guiliano had no choice," he said. "We are more fortunate," the Don said. It was the first lesson Michael received from his father and the one he learned best. It was to color his future life, persuade him to make terrible decisions he could never have dreamed of making before. It changed his perception of honor and heroism. It helped him survive, but it made him unhappy. For despite the fact that his father did not envy Guiliano, Michael did.

Don Corleone oğlunu bir kez daha görebilmek için gözlerini büyük bir güç harcayıp açtı. Zorlu kalp krizi yüzünü morartıyor, son anlarını yaşıyordu. Bahçeden gelen kokuları içine çekti; sarı ışık kümesi hâlâ gözlerinde oynaşıyordu. "Hayat öyle güzel ki," diye mırıldandı. Kader, kadınların gözyaşlarını görmesini önledi. Onlar kiliseden dönmeden, cankurtaran arabası ve doktor gelmeden önce, çevresi erkeklerle sarılı, en sevdiği oğlunun elini tutarak öldü.

There are three things I like about cannoli; they are a wonderfully greedy pleasure known the world over, their cameo appearance in The Godfather was made famous by Corleone family capo, “Fat Pete” Clemenza, and they don’t use their celebrity status to tell me how to live my life.

But now you come to me and you say, 'Don Corleone, give me Justice.' But you don't ask with respect, you don't offer friendship; you don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter's to be married and you ask me to do murder -- for money

Our No. 2 bottle, the 2012 Centopassi Argille di Tagghia Via, came from a region of northwestern Sicily more famous from pop culture than from wine, Corleone, the fictional ancestral home of Don Corleone of the “Godfather” movies. In fact, the wine comes from a group of cooperatives that cultivates land seized by the authorities from the Mafia.

When did I ever refuse an accommodation?

Don Corleone başını salladı : "İntikam, soğuk yendiğinde lezzetli bir yemektir,

Don Corleone, bitte sehr, for KPN white Schindler's List.

The White House has a Fountain and Rat Race running.

Politie Westland, Wanted, BB King daughters.

The astronaut Edgar D. Mitchell said of his experience of viewing Earth from the moon: “You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles and say, ‘Look at that, you son of a bitch.’ ” I love this quote for many reasons. One, because it illustrates that all the well-meaning talk of oneness, such as you have found in this book, is built upon an empirical reality. We’re all one, the human family; when you pull back to outer space or dive within to inner space, that becomes clear. I like that traveling to the moon was such an emotional and spiritual experience for Edgar, as I have always thought that astronauts would be tough military types that wouldn’t be given to such profound pronouncements. Mostly, though, I love his violent conclusion that he’d like to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and take him to the moon. Firstly because to grab anyone by the scruff of the neck is an animal and implausible thing to do. I just felt the back of my neck and there’s barely any scruff to grab. Unless this politician had a particularly fat neck, Edgar would have to be content with an inch of skin between his thumb and forefinger, like he was holding a teacup; he might as well have his pinkie finger extended. Then he’d have to kidnap the bloke, presumably from Washington, drag him all the way to Cape Canaveral, Florida, into the NASA HQ, presumably give him some basic space training, put him in a suit, a rocket, strap him in, spend a few days getting to the moon, then finally march him out and admonish him for his lack of perspective. I don’t think he could sustain his indignation for that long. I reckon he’d start to feel a connection to the terrified politician at some point during that journey, possibly in the training section, where they’d have to acclimatize to zero gravity in a swimming pool. Also, surely once Edgar got back to the moon and he looked back to Earth, his love of all the members of the human family would kick back in and he might feel too guilty to lay into the sobbing and vertiginous, undisclosed politician. Among the small number of people who have seen our planet from space this sense of enlightenment is seemingly common. There are loads of comparable quotes that illustrate this strong sense of connection and fraternity. I chose Edgar D. Mitchell’s one because he’s the only astronaut who saw his epiphany as an impetus to snatch a senator and beat him up on the moon like an intergalactic Vito Corleone.

I’d expected a Mexican drug lord to look like Danny Trejo or a Hispanic Don Corleone, anything but a Latin soap star. It was disappointing.

This offhand comment made by German physicist Max Planck at the turn of the twentieth century was based on his observation that scientists are like mafiosi—they exert a stranglehold on their fields, preventing new ideas from percolating to the surface and, like Don Corleone, you had to wait for them to die in order for science to move forward.

Like Don Corleone, I don’t judge a man for how he makes his living. What I judge a man for is something else: Not the desire to have an audience, to make money, all that sort of thing, but the abject, craven, humiliating need to be loved by strangers. I mean the emptiness that a certain kind of man or woman tries to fill with adulation, characteristic of the man who cannot stand in front of a crowd without being possessed to deliver corny prepackaged applause lines, who will kiss the collective ass of the mob—and any mob will do—because that mob ass simply must be kissed.

You saved my life, Dr. King.” He smiled and looked away, his eyes red as the tears tap-danced on his water line. “You would have done the same thing for me.” “We not talking about me, Hassan.”  He avoided eye contact with me, but the tear slipping down his cheek couldn’t be missed. “I couldn’t see you go out like that, King… not like that. I’d do that shit all over again, keep the same nightmares I been having just to stand here and be able to look into your eyes, not down onto your body like we had to do with Ellis… shit fucked up.” Corleon stood up and walked over to him, pulling him into his arms. Everything was hitting him at once.  Seeing me, someone he admired and saved was all too much. It had him spiraling, and I hated that shit. While holding onto Cappadonna and Kobe, I walked slowly over toward him.  I shook them off me and stood, tossing my arms around him. Squeezing him as he cried into my chest. Cappadonna’s hand could be felt on my back, making sure I didn’t lose balance, as I embraced Hassan.  “I owe you my life, Hassan. There was a time when I wanted someone to take me out. I wanted to leave this earth and never return. You get what you ask for, but you saved me. Saved me so I could be here for my children and wife. So my wife didn’t have to mourn me… there’s no way I could ever repay you.” “You already did… Had you not been you… I wouldn’t have been able to save you. This shit is all in the stars, all mapped out and we don’t have a say in how the universe loops us together… feel me?” “There he go talking about the stars and shit like I’m not an astronomer.” Cappadonna mumbled.  “Capp?” Capone called him. “What up, Twin?” “Shut the fuck up,” he busted out laughing as he held his chest and fell back onto the couch because he knew his brother was fool.

Corleon had dipped into the half bathroom that was connected and washed his hands. He stopped by the desk where Menace sprayed his hands and then handed him another wipe to wash and disinfect his hands. Then he handed him a hospital smock to put over his clothes before he was able to touch the baby. I was debating on if I wanted to even touch the baby with all this shit I had to go through to hold him. Corleon didn’t mind as he carefully picked him up, careful of his head and placed him on his chest.

Another one?” He shot me a look. “You said he didn’t make my god daughter?” “Aye, I’m not doing this with the both of you… not today. What the fuck is so important? I’m tired.” “Not too tired to be out in Brooklyn with that girl,” Corleon busted me out, and I looked at the snitch. “I’m grown.” “Ecru’s cousin.” “Her name is Navy.

AS COPPOLA MINED Puzo’s novel for themes and characters, he found himself particularly drawn to Amerigo Bonasera. Here was an Italian immigrant who tended to the dead, begging Don Corleone for more death. “Good scene,” he wrote in the margin of his prompt book.

He also, of course, had to calibrate his performance to match Brando’s. The Don Corleone whom Brando had made world-famous had certain physical, vocal, and behavioral characteristics that De Niro would have to incorporate in his portrayal of the younger man in order to make the connection between the two credible to audiences.

On the plane ride back to New York, Michael Corleone relaxed and tried to sleep. It was useless. The most terrible period of his life was approaching, perhaps even a fatal time. It could no longer be put off. Everything was in readiness, all precautions had been taken, two years of precautions. There could be no further delay. Last week when the Don had formally announced his retirement to the caporegimes and other members of the Corleone Family, Michael knew that this was his father’s way of telling him the time was ripe.