Ingrid Bergman Quotes

A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

Getting old is like climbing a mountain; you get a little out of breath, but the view is much better!

Happiness is good health and a bad memory.

Success is getting what you want; happiness is wanting what you get.

Once, when I was younger, I thought I could be someone else. I'd move to Casablanca, open a bar, and I'd meet Ingrid Bergman. Or more realistically - whether actually more realistic or not - I'd tune in on a better life, something more suited to my true self. Toward that end, I had to undergo training. I read The Greening of America, and I saw Easy Rider three times. But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return.

I have no regrets. I wouldn't have lived my Life the way I did if I was going to worry about what people were going to say.

I won't do this movie because I don't believe the love story," she told Selznick. "The heroine is an intellectual woman, and an intellectual woman simply can't fall in love so deeply.

You must train your intuition - you must trust the small voice inside you which tells you exactly what to say, what to decide.

I was the shyest human ever invented, but I had a lion inside me that wouldn't shut up!

Success is getting what you want. Happiness is wanting what you get.

I've never sought success in order to get fame and money; it's the talent and the passion that count in success.

I watched as Humphrey Bogart’s character used beans as a metaphor for the relative unimportance in the wider world of his relationship with Ingrid Bergman’s character, and chose logic and decency ahead of his selfish emotional desires. The quandary and resulting decision made for an engrossing film. But this was not what people cried about. They were in love and could not be together. I repeated this statement to myself, trying to force an emotional reaction. I couldn’t. I didn’t care. I had enough problems of my own.

A new beginning done right," she said out loud, because everyone knew that saying it out loud made it true. "You hear that, karma?" She glanced upward through her slightly leaky sunroof into a dark sky, where storm clouds tumbled together like a dryer full of gray wool blankets. "This time, I'm gong to be strong." Like Katharine Hepburn. Like Ingrid Bergman ."So go torture someone else and leave me alone." A bolt of lightning blinded her, followed by a boom of thunder that nearly had her jerking out of her skin. "Okay, so I meant pretty please leave me alone." -Maddie

This term is used in the 1944 Ingrid Bergman film Gaslight, in which a husband purposefully drives his wife insane by flickering lights, making noises in the attic, and then claiming the very real experience was all in her head.

Be yourself. The world worships and original. ~Ingrid Bergman

Cancer victims who don't accept their fate, who don't learn to live with it, will only destroy what little time they have left.

Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else.” – Judy Garland

I said, "I don't think I can give you that kind of emotion." And he [Hitchcock] sat there and said, "Ingrid, fake it!" Well, that was the best advice I've had in my whole life, because in all the years to come there were many directors who gave me what I thought were quite impossible instructions and many difficult things to do, and just when I was on the verge of starting to argue with them, I heard his voice coming to me through the air saying, "Ingrid, fake it!" It saved a lot of unpleasant situations and waste of time.

A kiss is the natures way to stop a conversation, when the words are superfluous

What I think is important is to appreciate every bit of happiness that comes your way, not to wait to celebrate the big happiness when it comes, but the more frequent little happinesses.

I do not know how to kiss or I would kiss you. Where do the noses go?

Gaslight—Ingrid Bergman

Quand je lis quelque chose je suis frappée tout de suite par peut-être une certaine vérité dedans n’est ce pas ? Quelque chose de sincère, et c’est pas nécessaire que c’est tragique ou un drame ca peut être aussi une comédie mais il faut avoir quelque chose de vraie.

Kisses are the messengers of love and tenderness. --Ingrid Bergman

Ingrid Bergman said, ‘Happiness is good health and a bad  memory.

I want you to know how deeply I wish to translate those ideas into images, just to quiet down the turmoil of my brain. (in a letter to Ingrid Bergman)

So Eliza walked the path to East Bay Street that summer evening alone, wearing a scoop-neck black dress and her hair in Victory Rolls so that she felt like a dark-haired Ingrid Bergman in that new movie Notorious.

My grandfather was troubled and fascinated by this alteration from the girl of ten days before. Had the flirtatious gamine in the Ingrid Bergman sunglasses been a pose adopted for the evening, while this shapely vessel leaking sadness approximated something closer to the truth of herself? Or was it the other way around? Maybe neither version was the "truth." Maybe "self" was a free variable with no bounded value. Maybe very time you met her, she would be somebody else.

Success is getting what you want. Happiness is wanting what you get.

Like Ingrid Bergman in the film Gaslight, whose husband has convinced her that she’s delusional when all along he’s set her up, the victims often lose faith in their ability to determine what’s real and what isn’t. (“Gaslight” has since become a psychological term, meaning to deliberately manipulate someone.) Being duped contaminates your entire sense of self.

Eloise, look, you’ll be disappointed, okay? Love disappoints. It can’t help itself. That’s why … I don’t know, that’s why Ingrid Bergman gets on the plane and leaves Casablanca, or Maude takes all those sleeping pills at the end of Harold and Maude. But what are we supposed to do? Stop trying? Preemptively say fuck it because we know everything invariably ends? That’s bullshit. You hear me? Bullshit. Love may disappoint, but that doesn’t absolve us from the duty of loving. Of trying to love.

Once, when I was younger, I thought I could be someone else. I'd move to Casablanca, open a bar, and I'd meet Ingrid Bergman. Or more realistically - whether actually more realistic or not - I'd tune in on a better life, something more suited to my true self. Toward that end, I had to undergo training. I read The Greening of America, and I saw Easy Rider three times. But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't going anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return. Was that so depressing? Who knows? Maybe that was 'despair.' What Turgenev called 'disillusionment.' Or Dostoevsky, 'hell.' Or Somerset Maugham, 'reality.' Whatever the label, I figured it was me.

FUCK THE WARNERS! Eloise, look, you’ll be disappointed, okay? Love disappoints. It can’t help itself. That’s why … I don’t know, that’s why Ingrid Bergman gets on the plane and leaves Casablanca, or Maude takes all those sleeping pills at the end of Harold and Maude. But what are we supposed to do? Stop trying? Preemptively say fuck it because we know everything invariably ends? That’s bullshit. You hear me? Bullshit. Love may disappoint, but that doesn’t absolve us from the duty of loving. Of trying to love.

She saw it all in cinematic glory, herself with perfect Ingrid Bergman hair and outfit, the house the sort she’d only ever seen in the movies, with open, sprawling rooms and a yard that was just for show, not for tending vegetables or animals. What was harder to imagine was how they would get there.

Happiness is good health and a bad memory

A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous

Ako je verovati Olginim pričama, moj otac i njegovi prijatelji imali su svoju klupu na Kalemegdanu gde su se sastajali posle ponoći. Leti su se spuštali niz zidove tvrđave. Onda bi plivali do ratnog ostrva i nazad. U jesen su se vozili ukradenim čamcem po magli. Zimi bi odlomili ledenicu s nosa i odlazili da se ogreju u francuskoj čitaonici, "Ruskom caru" ili "Prešernovoj kleti". Odlazili su u "Muzej kinoteke" da tamo plove po dva sata van vremena i prostora. Crno-beli odraz treptao je po licima i gubio se u njihovim otvorenim ustima. Škriputale su drvene stolice od suspregnutog uzbuđenja dok su gledali film, koji je režirao Vermer iz Delfta. U Kinoteci su ih susretali Ajzenštajnov junak sa prostreljenim cvikerom i mutave starlete iz dvadesetih godina, umesto kojih je govorio klavir. Čarli Čaplin je namigivao našminkanim okom sa velikog plakata... Iz Kinoteke du izlazili na ulicu podivljali od njihanja senki. U prvom ulazu do bioskopa ljubili su se Ingrid Bergman i Hemfri Bogart. U drugom ulazu ljubili du se Žerar Filip i Mišel Morgan. Moj otac i njegovi prijatelji živeli su u suterenima - kao pacovi i rani hrišćani - ili na mansardama - kao anđeli i golubovi. U vreme kad su novinari kritikovani zbog "pesimizma", u katakombama komunističkog Beograda, ovi članovi podzemne akademije čitali su retke knjige kao što je "Tajna istorija Mongola". I sami su pisali svoju fantomsku istoriju. Krivotvorenje, dopisivanje sveta ispunjavalo ih je osećanjem moći. Bezimene slavine i lutke sa đubrišta izlagali su na plavom somotu u svom "muzeju". Njihov muzej bio je sirotište za predmete. Tu je slavina iskopana na đubrištu smatrana jednako lepom kao leptir iz kataloga. Obogaljeni predmeti više nisu bili u sporednoj ulozi na ovom svetu nego u glavnoj. Te stvari su bile ritualno očišćene od bezvrednosti i činom "proglašenja" pridodata im je vrednost. Zbog skupljanja stvari sa đubrišta, retka pera koja bi se snishodila da se pozabave ovom grupom optuživala ih je da su "nekrofili buržoaskog sveta

At the corner of the bar, a conversation rose in decibel, becoming animated. “Yo, Frank, take a look at what just walked in! Is it Christmas already? ‘Cause that sure is a pretty package.” “You got that right. . . . Wouldn’t mind unwrapping her bows.” Instinctively, Sean cast a glance over his shoulder and groaned in despair. The scene from Casablanca played in his mind. . .Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine. This could not be happening. This was his turf, his town, his bar. She had no right to trespass. Okay, so this wasn’t Casablanca. This wasn’t Rick’s Café. Sam’s fingers weren’t summoning the haunting melody, “As Time Goes By,” from the ivories of an old upright piano. There weren’t any ceiling fans with long propeller-like blades slicing through thick clouds of cigarette smoke, nor were the voices that could be heard an exotic mélange of foreign languages and accents. But those differences were superficial, of no consequence. The only thing that really mattered was that Sean understood exactly how Bogie felt when his eyes lit on Ingrid Bergman. That terrible mix of bitterness, longing, and fury eating away at him. He groaned again. At the sound, the two men sitting at the corner of the bar broke off their conversation, eyeing Sean curiously. Just as quickly, they dismissed him and returned to their avid inspection. “Must be lost or confused. Palm Beach is twenty-five miles north.” “Let’s be friendly and give her directions. How ‘bout that, Ray?” “You frigging nuts? The only directions I’m giving her are to the slip where my houseboat’s moored.

I turned on the television screen and computer and fast-forwarded Casablanca for one last try. I watched as Humphrey Bogart’s character used beans as a metaphor for the relative unimportance in the wider world of his relationship with Ingrid Bergman’s character and chose logic and decency ahead of his selfish emotional desires. The quandary and resulting decision made for an engrossing film. But this was not what people cried about. They were in love and could never be together. I repeated this statement to myself, trying to force an emotional reaction. I couldn’t. I didn’t care. I had enough problems of my own.

wrenching

You must train your intuition—you must trust the small voice inside you, which tells you exactly what to say, what to decide. —Ingrid Bergman

There was a line in which Rick Blaine complained that of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, Ingrid Bergman had to walk into his. Luke had told him, “You can do a lot with a line like that.

Bing Crosby in The Bells of St. Mary’s was a longtime favorite, along with an appreciation for Ingrid Bergman as a rather fetching nun. Grant tried not to think too deeply about a Lutheran pastor having the hots for a Catholic nun.

not know or had scarcely heard of, like Ingrid Bergman or Marilyn Monroe.

Succes is krijgen wat je wilt; geluk is willen wat je krijgt.

Once, when I was younger, I thought I could be someone else. I'd move to Casablanca, open a bar, and I'd meet Ingrid Bergman. Or more realistically - whether actually more realistic or not - I'd tune in on a better life, something more suited to my true self. Toward that end, I had to undergo training. I read The Greening of America, and I saw Easy Rider three times. But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return.

I thought of Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight, struggling to understand what was true and what was not, doubting her own sanity as her husband manipulated her.