Meg Ryan Quotes

It was personal to me." ~Kathleen Kelly (Meg Ryan) in You've Got Mail

Any idiot can be brave, but courage is about knowing what's at stake, and moving forward anyway.

When you interact with someone who is fully engaged and filled with passion, it can be an overwhelming and unforgettable experience. There is no faking it…you can’t “Meg Ryan” that type of passion!

Everyone thinks of romantic comedies as being these sappy, unrealistic stories where love conquers all and everyone ends up happy at the end. But that's not what her movies were at all. Like, in Sleepless in Seattle, you can't really get any sadder that Tom Hanks missing his dead wife. And in You've Got Mail, Meg Ryan misses her mom and loses her store. None of that gets resolved by the end. It's not like Tom's wife comes back to life, and Meg Ryan still loses the business her mom built.

I'd follow Dean Di Laurentis to the ends of the earth. To the bowels of a volcano, if he asked me to be the Meg Ryan to his Tom Hanks. To fucking Mordor, if he asked me to be the Sam to his Frodo.

I change the channel to another movie. An old one, but new to me. And, ironically, a thin, gorgeous blonde—Meg Ryan, maybe—rides her bike on a country road. She smiles like she has no cares in the world. Like no one ever judges her. Like her life is perfect. Wind through her hair and sunshine on her face. The only thing missing are the rainbows and butterflies and cartoon birds singing on her shoulder. Maybe I should grab my bike and try to catch up with Mom, Mike, and the kids. They can't be going very fast. I would love to feel like that, even if it's just for a second—free and peaceful and normal. Suddenly, there's a truck. It can't be headed toward Meg Ryan. Could it? Yes. Oh my God. No! Meg Ryan just got hit by that truck. Figures. See what happens when you exercise?

Maybe my person and I won’t fit together like two halves of the same whole, but neither did Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail or Sleepless in Seattle. They didn’t erase each other’s pain; they just made it bearable.

Sometimes I think of my life as a sitcom. But in reality, life is more than a series of memorable events that bring out the Meg Ryan in us. Life happens in the gaps between scenes. We live in the fade-to-blacks.

Meg makes a face and lays her hand on my arm. "And why, exactly, would John want to see Eurotrash?" "Hello?" Ryan says. "Because he's a seventeen-year old guy with normal male urges, and she's got-" He holds both hands out from his chest. "Really pretty eyes," I complete his sentence.

I settle back in my seat, gazing out the window as we cross the bridge toward New Jersey. I don’t know where the heck he’s taking me, but I’m happy to let him. I’d follow Dean Di Laurentis to the ends of the earth. To the bowels of a volcano, if he asked me to be the Meg Ryan to his Tom Hanks. To fucking Mordor, if he asked me to be the Sam to his Frodo. To— “We’re here,” he announces. I’m jolted out of the most ridiculous train of thought I’ve ever ridden.

It seems right now that all I’ve ever done in my life is making my way here to you.’ I could see that Rosie could not place the line from The Bridges of Madison County that had produced such a powerful emotional reaction on the plane. She looked confused. ‘Don, what are you…what have you done to yourself?’ ‘I’ve made some changes.’ ‘Big changes.’ ‘Whatever behavioural modifications you require from me are a trivial price to pay for having you as my partner.’ Rosie made a downwards movement with her hand, which I could not interpret. Then she looked around the room and I followed her eyes. Everyone was watching. Nick had stopped partway to our table. I realised that in my intensity I had raised my voice. I didn’t care. ‘You are the world’s most perfect woman. All other women are irrelevant. Permanently. No Botox or implants will be required. ‘I need a minute to think,’ she said. I automatically started the timer on my watch. Suddenly Rosie started laughing. I looked at her, understandably puzzled at this outburst in the middle of a critical life decision. ‘The watch,’ she said. ‘I say “I need a minute” and you start timing. Don is not dead. 'Don, you don’t feel love, do you?’ said Rosie. ‘You can’t really love me.’ ‘Gene diagnosed love.’ I knew now that he had been wrong. I had watched thirteen romantic movies and felt nothing. That was not strictly true. I had felt suspense, curiosity and amusement. But I had not for one moment felt engaged in the love between the protagonists. I had cried no tears for Meg Ryan or Meryl Streep or Deborah Kerr or Vivien Leigh or Julia Roberts. I could not lie about so important a matter. ‘According to your definition, no.’ Rosie looked extremely unhappy. The evening had turned into a disaster. 'I thought my behaviour would make you happy, and instead it’s made you sad.’ ‘I’m upset because you can’t love me. Okay?’ This was worse! She wanted me to love her. And I was incapable. Gene and Claudia offered me a lift home, but I did not want to continue the conversation. I started walking, then accelerated to a jog. It made sense to get home before it rained. It also made sense to exercise hard and put the restaurant behind me as quickly as possible. The new shoes were workable, but the coat and tie were uncomfortable even on a cold night. I pulled off the jacket, the item that had made me temporarily acceptable in a world to which I did not belong, and threw it in a rubbish bin. The tie followed. On an impulse I retrieved the Daphne from the jacket and carried it in my hand for the remainder of the journey. There was rain in the air and my face was wet as I reached the safety of my apartment.

Lilly asked me if i had to choose between Harrison Ford or George Clooney who would it be, and I said Harrison Ford even though he's so old, but the Harrison Ford from Indiana Jones, not Star Wars, and then Lilly said she'd choose Harrison Ford as Jack Ryan in those Tom Clancy movies, and then Michael goes, Who would you choose, Harrison Ford or Leonardo di Caprio? and we both chose Harrison Ford because Leonardo is so passe,

Halfway through the tour, we skip out and go to Cafe Lalo instead, determined to sit just where Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks did in You’ve Got Mail.

But there's something flirty/sexy about his voice that's appealing to my inner romantic comedy actress. Then again, maybe it's just his penthouse apartment I'm hearing. My inner gold digger frequently beats the crap out of my inner Meg Ryan.

Oh, I'm so inadequate and I love myself!

She is chilled by Megs’s response to this crisis. It makes no sense to her whatsoever. She knows that boys are less terrifying to parent than girls – she’s done both and she knows that she feels less anxious when Ryan is out after dark than Tallulah. But still, it’s been nearly three days. The disappearance of anyone for that amount of time is just fundamentally worrying. Yet Megs is not worried in the least. For a moment, it crosses Kim’s mind that maybe Megs is not worried because she knows something,

Benetton markasının düzenli yayınladığı Colors dergisinin 2000 yılının ilk sayısı, kültürlerin devamlılığı önündeki en büyük tehlikelerden biri olarak ‘tektipleşme’yi sayıyor ve bu savını destekleyecek çeşitli örnekler veriyordu: Bugün dünyada yaklaşık 300 milyon evde Amerikan müzik kanalı MTV izleniyor. Yaklaşık 200 ülkede gençler, artık Sevgililer Günü'nü kendi bayramlarından çok önemsiyor ve sevgililer gününde sevgililerine Hallmark'ın hazırladığı kartlarla aşklarını ilan ediyorlar. Tüm dünyada çocuklar, Disney'in Mickey Mouse'unu, kendi devlet büyüklerinden daha iyi tanıyor. 1998'de dünyada en çok gişe yapan 20 filmin 19'u Amerikan filmlerinden oluşuyordu. Güneydoğu Asya'da gençler saçlarının Jennifer Lopez veya Meg Ryan gibi olmasını istiyorlar. Bunun yanında, Dünyada her 5 saatte bir McDonald's restoranı açıldığı belirtiliyor. Aralarında binlerce kilometre fark olan ülkelerde aynı hastalık (AIDS), aynı ilaç (Viagra), aynı içecek (cola), aynı haber kanalı (CNN), aynı haber (Clinton'ın aşk maceraları), aynı maç (Avrupa futbol şampiyonası finali), saat farkıyla popüler oluyor.

Alec? Not Baldwin?' she jokes. 'Meg Ryan's long-suffering husband?' 'No drip. Meg Ryan married Denis Quaid until she ran off with Russell Crowe before he ditched her for Nicole Kidman, when Tom Ditched her. This is way before Nicole married rock star Keith, I might add. Alec Baldwin's wife is, or rather was, Kim Basinger. They're divorced now. Fought over Ireland.' 'Cathlic/Protestant dilemma?' 'No, their daughter, Ireland.

Proof of Life (ActionDram 3.1, with a Meg Ryan plug-in) greatly bolsters my opinion that Meg Ryan has no talent other than being just as cute as a little button.

Sometimes she thought she would have been better off procreating at twenty-two than thirty-two. Back then, she had thought she wanted four or five kids someday. She was still young and dumb enough to think it possible. Maybe that’s how mothers like Anne Marie were made — they plunged headlong into the whole endeavor before they knew any better. They weren’t selfish or greedy with their time because as adults they had never spent several Saturdays in a row lying in bed watching Meg Ryan movies on cable. They had never passed an entire weekend indoors, just because they felt like it.

In the quiet evening, though, I’d catch an old Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts rom-com on the television. And I can tell you this: no one in the world wants to be single during a rom-com. No one in the world says, Thank God nobody looks at me that way. Thank God nobody sprints through an airport and shouts “I love you” just before going through security.

Suddenly thinking of that romantic comedy, "When Harry met Sally," Marcy giggled. While arguing in a Manhattan deli, the actress Meg Ryan asserts that a man can't recognize when a woman is faking orgasm. To prove her point, she fakes a climax as other diners watch. Then one patron says, "I'll have what she's having.

Oh, right. She doesn’t know your secret identity.” Andy unzipped his sweatshirt and tossed it on a chair. “So, Meg Ryan just sent Tom Hanks a book but…” “No, Meg Ryan just sent NY152 a book, which was then overnighted to Tom Hanks, who lives above Meg Ryan and knows she’s Shopgirl, while she has no idea he’s NY152.” “I’m a little disturbed you know that movie so well.” “It was actually a remake of a 1937 play called Parfumerie by Miklós László.” Paul blew out a breath. “And it’s really not as fun as they made it sound.” “But hey, at least you can say you’ve got mail,” Andy said, chuckling.

desk to me. “She had her hair cut like Meg Ryan, the movie star. Everybody

Well, I didn’t have you pegged as Meg Ryan. And if I didn’t already tell you this, prepare to go to the mattresses. I own a bookstore.

¿Sabía él que Selene iba a llamarse Selena y que su nombre era fruto de una confusión en el certificado de nacimiento? ¿Sabía que el color de sus ojos cambiaba según la estación del año, y que eran verdes en verano y castaños en otoño? ¿Sabía que odiaba a Meg Ryan o que su sabor de helado favorito era el de cereza? ¿Acaso sabía él que su película favorita era La princesa prometida? No, Mario Losilla no sabía lo afortunado que era de tener a una chica como ella.

¿Sabía él que en realidad Selene iba a llamarse Selena y que su nombre era fruto de una confusión en el certificado de nacimiento? ¿Sabía que el color de sus ojos cambiaba según la estación del año, y que eran verdes en verano y castaños en otoño? ¿Sabía que odiaba a Meg Ryan o que su sabor de helado favorito era el de cereza? ¿Acaso sabía él que su película favorita era La Princesa Prometida? No, Mario Losilla no sabía lo afortunado que era de tener a una chica como ella.

I’m Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, holding Tom Hanks at knifepoint after he’s just compared books to vats of olive oil.

Is Meg Ryan a frightening woman whose actions—using her journalism job to track down Tom Hanks’s address after hearing him on a radio call-in show, spying on him and his child playing at the

A week before the fair, Andy had to turn in all of her notes and photographs to Dr. Finney to prove that she had actually done all of the work herself. She was laying out the dubious evidence on the teacher’s desk when Cleet Laraby walked in. Andy had to clasp together her hands to keep them from trembling when Cleet stopped to look at the photos. “Meg Ryan,” Cleet said. “I dig it. Blow up the bitch, right?” Andy felt a cold slice of air cut open her lips. “My girlfriend loves that stupid movie. The one with the angels?” Cleet showed her the sticker on his backpack. “They wrote that shitty song for the soundtrack, man. That’s why I keep this here, to remind me never to sell out my art like those faggots.” Andy didn’t move. She couldn’t speak. Girlfriend. Stupid. Shitty. Man. Faggots.

By my early twenties, I was still devoted to heroic woman stories, but the love narratives had started to lose some of their appeal. The release of a new Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks vehicle seemed far less interesting to me than the latest installment of the Alien movie franchise. Had I lost interest in romance? Far from it. In fact, this was at the time in my life when I was very serious about finding a great love. However, I was also struggling to be my own person, to understand my identity, to follow my own dreams and start down my chosen career path. I had plans to travel the world, to attend graduate school. I was coming into—and exercising—my own forms of strength and independence. But I was tired of the one-sided representations of male-identified characters doing this, of feeling that only one version of this kind of empowerment existed. I wanted balance and social justice. I wanted to see more evidence of women on screen doing the same, women making a difference, doing something amazing, and being the heroes of their own lives and stories. Unfortunately, there weren’t very many female-bodied characters who did that who also got to find love. In fact, the more romance a woman enjoyed in a narrative, the less strength or independence of any kind she expressed in the story, especially before the last two decades. (3)

Oh yes,’ agreed Smokey. ‘That’s what us screenwriters call a complication, you see. It can’t just be boy meets cigarette machine, falls in love, the end, can it? I mean, who would want to see that? No, you’ve got to have obstacles – like how Romeo and Juliet are from warring families, or how Meg Ryan’s character in Sleepless in Seattle is already engaged when she falls for Tom Hanks, or how she runs a little bookshop in You’ve Got Mail and he runs a big one, or how he’s trapped on a desert island with a volleyball and she isn’t even in that movie. Obstacles, you see. Obstacles.