Fairbanks Quotes

Mo chuisle? It means ‘my pulse.’ I never quite understood it before, what it meant to have another person be the d-driving force behind the pump of your blood, but it’s true. Lark, your smile saved me like an emergency transfusion. Your laugh is the song my every blood cell dances to. Your touch revived me from darkness. You are my pulse. You make me feel alive even when I’m surrounded by death.

At thirteen desperately watching TV, curling my long legs under me, desperately reading books, callow adolescent that I was, trying (desperately!) to find someone in books, in movies, in life, in history, to tell me it was O.K. to be ambitious, O.K. to be loud, O.K. to be Humphrey Bogart (smart and rudeness), O.K. to be James Bond (arrogance), O.K. to be Superman (power), O.K. to be Douglas Fairbanks (swashbuckling), to tell me self-love was all right, to tell me I could love God and Art and Myself better than anything on earth and still have orgasms.

There’s a Douglas Fairbanks picture at the Strand. A swashbuckler. You love those.” Evie closed one eye. “You’re telling me not to lose hope because there are pirate pictures?” “I’m trying here, Baby Vamp. When you’re facing evil, a good pirate picture doesn’t hurt.

Who are you, and what have you done with Callum Flannelly?” “Lark, I’m more myself with you than anywhere else.

You don’t need to pretend. I want to share in your happiness and in your sorrow.

Tragedy made me appreciate serendipity even more.

We show the people we love the ugliest parts of ourselves, and we tell them the truth even when it hurts, because that’s what intimacy is.

You deserve a little graveyard smash.

The greatest compliments I’ve ever received were complaints from readers that I made them stay up all night reading.

Books are the safest and greatest mind-altering substances in the world. But be safe; don't read and drive.

Callum had become my haven … and I had become his. It snuck up on me, unplanned and unforeseen, but that didn’t make it any less true.

But all we can control is how we choose to move through life. With honesty. With bravery. With love. I know you can do it.

I will put you in your grave with a smile on my face if you say another word about that woman who is a hundred times your equal.

Yesterday is history, Tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift. To handle yourself, use your head, To handle others, use your heart. What would life be if we had not courage to attempt anything? When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

Liang Qichao came away disappointed. American democracy seemed to spawn "mediocre politicians, corruption, disorder, racism, imperialism". "In short," noted the late J K Fairbank, most prolific and influential of America's sinologists, "he got our number, and it turned him off.

And miss all the moments that send the butterflies loose in your stomach? No way. First date, first kiss, first slow dance. Popping the question and hearing yes. The falling matters, too. Not just the ever after.

Lark selected a table near the stage. I’d have preferred to sit further back. Hell, I’d have preferred to be at home, but had promised myself that I’d make an effort.

Lark was beautiful. And not only objectively, based on facial geometry or social consensus. Beautiful to me. Utterly captivating.

I feel safe with you, Cal.

You’ve been telling yourself lies for too long, darlin’. It’s time to un-learn them.

Tradition is important, but so is personal agency.

Rehearsing the words in my head over and over, I practiced my order. Interactions with strangers always spiked my blood pressure.

A pinch wouldn’t wake me up from this. And if it did, I’d be back in Fairbanks, living in my dad’s basement. Where would you be if I punched you, Samantha?

The papers of Jerry Fairbanks Studios lie uncatalogued in the basement of the UCLA research library.

There was Mary Pickford, who called Frances “the pillar of my career,” for she had written Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Pollyanna, A Little Princess, and a dozen more of Pickford’s greatest successes. Frances was also her best friend and had seen her through her divorce from Owen Moore and marriage to Douglas Fairbanks; Frances and Mary had even honeymooned with their new husbands together in Europe. Irving Thalberg was the “boy genius of Hollywood,” but Frances called him “my rock of Gibraltar” and he was the only man in the room whose opinion she truly valued and respected. He in turn “adored her and trusted her completely.

But then, six months ago, my dad hauled me with him to this shaddy town in Alaska. Seward Peninsula, just below Arctic Circle? And then, middle of May—we flew to Fairbanks on a prop plane, and then we came here.

The simple facts of Mao’s career seem incredible: in a vast land of 400 million people, at age 28, with a dozen others, to found a party and in the next fifty years to win power, organize, and remold the people and reshape the land–history records no greater achievement. Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne, all the kings of Europe, Napoleon, Bismarck, Lenin–no predecessor can equal Mao Tse-tung’s scope of accomplishment, for no other country was ever so ancient and so big as China. Indeed Mao’s achievement is almost beyond our comprehension.

You think I don’t have regrets? Charlie and I lost years together because of my own pride. We show our partners the ugliest parts of ourselves, and we tell them the truth even when it hurts, because that’s what intimacy is.

China is able to feed 23 percent of the world’s population from 7 percent of the arable land—“by crowding some 2,000 human beings onto each square mile of cultivated earth in the valleys and flood plains,” as Fairbank points out.

We'd caught a commuter flight from there to Philadelphia, and from there to Seattle and now Fairbanks. It reminded me a little of the crazy flights I'd had to take from Siberia back to the U.S. That journey had also gone via Seattle. I was starting to believe that city was a gateway to obscure places.

You know what we need?" I was sitting between Eddie and Lissa, on our flight from Seattle to Fairbanks. As the shortest-marginally-and the mastermind, I'd gotten stuck with the middle seat. "A new plan?" asked Lissa. "A miracle?" asked Eddie. I paused and glared at them both before responding. Since when had they become the comedians here?

You know … the body bags. What are they for?” “Bodies,” I answered, not understanding the question.

I thought y’all were super-hospitable to foreigners. ‘Land of a thousand welcomes,’ right?” I snorted. “I’m in the business of goodbyes, not hellos.

Regardless of shared DNA, I refused to think of him as “Dad.

And she’s introduced more joy into my life than I could imagine.

Touch yourself. Show me how you like it.

You make me want. I’ve never wanted anyone like this,

You’ve kept a list of baby names in your Notes app for years.

He’s hot in a ‘Damien Rice song’ kinda way.

If making a fool out of myself made her smile, I’d do it every day. To hell with my dignity.

What I would endure personally and what I would tolerate on behalf of others were two different things.

- Você saiu com cartas de merda no jogo da vida. Às vezes isso acontece com as melhores pessoas. Não significa que você não mereça ser amada.

— Nós mostramos às pessoas que amamos as partes mais feias de nós e dizemos a verdade a elas mesmo quando dói, porque é isso que significa ter intimidade.

Die? That is the last thing I shall do!

Everything changes in this world. Not always for the worse. Wounds heal, if you let them.

I had my patience tested. I’m negative.

We show our partners the ugliest parts of ourselves, and we tell them the truth even when it hurts, because that’s what intimacy is.

And people who have a moon in Scorpio means they keep a drawbridge around themselves. Impenetrable unless they choose to trust. When they let someone in, it awakens a sense of deep loyalty.

Mas porque nenhuma outra cidade na Terra era o lar de Callum Flannelly. Nenhum lugar poderia ser chamado de lar sem ele. A percepção me atingiu na cabeça como uma marreta de madeira da Acme.

Each piece of the set was on a winch and pulley, bag-dropped, counterbalanced by nests of fifty-pound bags of sand. The setup was called a "Fairbanks," for the reason that when a stagehand so wanted, he could stand upon a knot on the rope, untie as few or as many bags of sand as he wanted, and ride nearly to the rafters like Zorro as the scenery lowered. There was no particular reason to ride that way, but because Carter allowed it, the team of men did so all night long, trading places at the top, jumping onto the ropes and riding back down later. With the mighty Egyptian set descending in its many pieces, the audience was deprived of a behind-the-scenes tableau of beauty: Carter's team swiftly riding ropes up to the catwalk and down to the stage again, simply because they could.

Classic. Contemplative Cancer.” How the hell? “Run a background check on me, didya then?” “Pfft. I just did the math. Besides, this”—Lark gestured to my entire form—“screams crustacean. I had you pegged as a water sign from the first time we met.” “I don’t believe in that. And refrain from suggesting you’ve pegged me, please.” “Would you let me run your natal chart? You’re a Scorpio moon, I bet.

I was an engineer with Fairbanks Morse, Mr. President. I helped design some of the engines in their locomotives before the war, but then transferred my knowledge to the engines used in the Grant and Lee tanks, many of which were sent to the British.” FDR was once again intrigued by what he heard. “The engine that pulls my train is a Fairbanks Morse locomotive.” Brock beamed. “Yes it is, sir. Engine 978.

I mean to tell you, the Law's notion of justice is more cold-blooded than any outlaw I ever knew. And I mean 'outlaw,' not criminal. 'Criminal' doesn't distinguish between guys like men and the guys who own the banks and insurance companies and stock markets, who own the factories and coal mines and oil fields, who own the goddamn Law. I once said to John that being an outlaw was about the only way left for a man to hold on to his self-respect, and he said Ain't that the sad truth. The girls laughed along with us because they knew it wasn't a joke.... John got the publicity because he loved it ... he carried on like the whole thing was an adventure movie and he was Douglas Fairbanks. He wanted to to be a 'star.' That's how he was. Not me. I never even liked having my picture taken. All I ever wanted was to show the bastards who own the law that it didn't mean they owned me.

Bingley prowled his library like a caged animal. The rain separating him from Jane imprisoned him in the house, creating his own personal hell. His sisters worked themselves into a frenzy over the ball, his brother-in-law consoled himself with increasing amounts of drink, and Darcy stared into space with a small smile on his lips. He wondered if the world had turned upside down if Darcy was the besotted man, smiling too much while he grumbled over every detail.

While I lived with my master in St. Michael's, there was a white young man, a Mr. Wilson, who proposed to keep a Sabbath school for the instruction of such slaves as might be disposed to learn to read the New Testament. We met but three times, when Mr. West and Mr. Fairbanks, both class-leaders, with many others, came upon us with sticks and other missiles, drove us off, and forbade us to meet again. Thus ended our little Sabbath school in the pious town of St. Michael's.

— Eu não sabia que podia machucar tanto se importar com alguém. — Você está passando por um luto — disse Deirdre enquanto oferecia uma xícara fumegante; eu a aceitei com gratidão. — Perder sua amizade. O futuro que você visualizou. É uma forma válida de luto.

Dad] would take a McDonald’s straw, cut it, put it in each nostril and [snort] just about every fifteen minutes for three or four days at a time,” Shooter recalled. Seeing their only child together sticking a used one up his nose became both the proverbial and literal last straw for Jessi Colter.4

It is a painful irony that silent movies were driven out of existence just as they were reaching a kind of glorious summit of creativity and imagination, so that some of the best silent movies were also some of the last ones. Of no film was that more true than Wings, which opened on August 12 at the Criterion Theatre in New York, with a dedication to Charles Lindbergh. The film was the conception of John Monk Saunders, a bright young man from Minnesota who was also a Rhodes scholar, a gifted writer, a handsome philanderer, and a drinker, not necessarily in that order. In the early 1920s, Saunders met and became friends with the film producer Jesse Lasky and Lasky’s wife, Bessie. Saunders was an uncommonly charming fellow, and he persuaded Lasky to buy a half-finished novel he had written about aerial combat in the First World War. Fired with excitement, Lasky gave Saunders a record $39,000 for the idea and put him to work on a script. Had Lasky known that Saunders was sleeping with his wife, he might not have been quite so generous. Lasky’s choice for director was unexpected but inspired. William Wellman was thirty years old and had no experience of making big movies—and at $2 million Wings was the biggest movie Paramount had ever undertaken. At a time when top-rank directors like Ernst Lubitsch were paid $175,000 a picture, Wellman was given a salary of $250 a week. But he had one advantage over every other director in Hollywood: he was a World War I flying ace and intimately understood the beauty and enchantment of flight as well as the fearful mayhem of aerial combat. No other filmmaker has ever used technical proficiency to better advantage. Wellman had had a busy life already. Born into a well-to-do family in Brookline, Massachusetts, he had been a high school dropout, a professional ice hockey player, a volunteer in the French Foreign Legion, and a member of the celebrated Lafayette Escadrille flying squad. Both France and the United States had decorated him for gallantry. After the war he became friends with Douglas Fairbanks, who got him a job at the Goldwyn studios as an actor. Wellman hated acting and switched to directing. He became what was known as a contract director, churning out low-budget westerns and other B movies. Always temperamental, he was frequently fired from jobs, once for slapping an actress. He was a startling choice to be put in charge of such a challenging epic. To the astonishment of everyone, he now made one of the most intelligent, moving, and thrilling pictures ever made. Nothing was faked. Whatever the pilot saw in real life the audiences saw on the screen. When clouds or exploding dirigibles were seen outside airplane windows they were real objects filmed in real time. Wellman mounted cameras inside the cockpits looking out, so that the audiences had the sensation of sitting at the pilots’ shoulders, and outside the cockpit looking in, allowing close-up views of the pilots’ reactions. Richard Arlen and Buddy Rogers, the two male stars of the picture, had to be their own cameramen, activating cameras with a remote-control button.

For the first time in twenty-nine years, I was alone. By choice … but still.

Lark used Guilt Trip. It’s very effective,

Anything she wanted. Anything I could give.

I’ll b-b— Just a moment, please.

The way you make the world more colorful. I don’t think I realized how much I needed it until we met. Not just your job, you. There’s so much sadness in this world and you seem to always be spreading joy through it.

I had you pegged as a water sign from the first time we met.” “I don’t believe in that. And refrain from suggesting you’ve pegged me, please.

Sometimes we get upset when someone passes on. Raging mad. That’s normal, being angry when we lose someone we care about, not just sad.

You’re more of a softie than you realize.

I’m just glad to have you here with me tonight. Thank you for being so thoughtful.

Never one to crave attention, it suited me … but Lark made me exposed as a body on the prep table. And I wanted her to see me.

Know what else I like?” he said, derailing my guilt again. “My grotesquely sweet snacks. Admit it.” “The way you make the world more colorful. I don’t think I realized how much I needed it until we met. Not just your job, you. There’s so much sadness in this world and you seem to always be spreading joy through it.

No one could make me forget about Lark in a million years.

she didn’t make me feel alive like Lark did.

she didn’t make me feel alive like Lark did. Challenged and curious and … optimistic for the first time in decades.

I bit back a groan, imagining peeling her knickers off with my teeth.

I am lucky. To have you.

Then you moved in next door and … now I feel hopeful. Maybe for the first time. You wrecked my comfort zone.

You take care of me. More than you know.

Who knew the reaper had such a pretty scythe?

You’re perfect.

Tell me if you want to stop.” “Touch me before I lose my mind.

When I filled her, she filled me with awe. Until there was no room for loneliness. Only Lark. Only us. Only these perfect moments.

I never wanted to go back to being only friends.

We obviously have physical chemistry. Well, like, ‘Oops, we accidentally blew up the school science lab’ chemistry.

But you—you, Lark—deserve love. Healing. No matter what happened before, I think your husband would agree with me. Promise me you’ll stop running, and let someone in.

Somewhere along the line, I’d fallen in love with her. Fuck. I loved Lark Thompson. There was no use denying it to myself when this woman’s every emotion inspired such soul-deep empathy.

Did I need to breathe? Oxygen was inconsequential compared to her bliss.

Everything else fell away. Nothing remained but Lark and the intimacy we shared.

That’s my girl.

The song was right: life was quite absurd. Because as he’d sung, I realized I was in love with Callum Flannelly.

What would Dolly do?

To love was to accept risk.

You needed me,” she said simply. “Of course I came.

You look exquisite.

Reality is brutal. Fiction offers a lens through which to understand others, catharsis

The formal Garamond to my irreverent, maligned Comic Sans.

Moreover, there is often a gap between one’s self-image (one that may even be shared by foreigners) and a more complicated record of history. China’s interstate history is replete with wars and military campaigns that belie the Confucian dogma stressing “soft power” based on ethical teachings and cultural appeal. Actual practice has often departed from ritualistic rhetoric and official orthodoxy. Notwithstanding arguments to the contrary, the Chinese have not always eschewed maritime initiatives, shunned commercial contact with foreigners, or insisted that the latter be treated unequally under the tributary system (e.g., Dreyer 2007; Fairbank 1968; Levathes 1994; Reid and Zheng 2009; Rossabi 1983). Nor has China always managed to maintain a hierarchical system within its borders or in East Asia. Its regional hegemony has not always been accompanied by peace; there have been numerous wars, especially when dynastic authority has declined and imperial rule weakened (e.g., Hui 2008; Wang 2009). Even China’s Great Wall, both as a physical and ideational construct, shows the considerable distance that can separate myth-making from historical reality (e.g., Waldron 1990). As these and earlier remarks suggest, I am generally skeptical about sweeping cultural, historical, and even psychological attributions, such as those suggesting ostensible Chinese nationalism, ethnocentrism, yearning for order, or proclivity for authoritarian rule (e.g., Pye 1968) as a basis for understanding contemporary Chinese foreign policy.

In 1971 Sterman attached his first human subject, twenty-three-year-old Mary Fairbanks, to a neurofeedback device. She had suffered from epilepsy since the age of eight, with grand mal seizures two or more times a month. She trained for an hour a day twice a week. At the end of three months she was virtually seizure free.

But hey, at least this plane had all its phalanges. - Harley

... she looked like a damned Goddess amongst mortals. - Owen

Even if she did have thoughts about me like that, she would have no idea what she was getting into. I was a selfish, fucking asshole. I knew that I'd never be able to let her go. I didn't just want her for a week, I wanted to keep her. I'd known that for years now. I missed the way her personality filled my home when she wasn't here and I longed for the deep conversations we'd had under the stars when it was just her and I. When she was around, all of the chatter in my head seemed to get quieter and I found myself smiling more. Even if I didn't let her see it. - Owen

No, baby girl. I call you Ace because you're my lucky charm," he admitted softly. "Everything in my life is better when you're around and I feel like I'm alive when I'm with you. I know you deserve more, fuck, you deserve someone who can give you everything you've ever wanted - Owen