Nova Movie Quotes

Blue pencils, blue noses, blue movies, laws, blue legs and stockings, the language of birds, bees and flowers as sung by longshoremen, that lead-like look the skin has when affected by cold, contusion, sickness, fear; the rotten rum or gin they call blue ruin and the blue devils of its delirium; Russian cats and oysters, a withheld or imprisoned breath, the blue they say that diamonds have, deep holes in the ocean and the blazers which English athletes earn that gentlemen may wear; afflictions of the spirit--dumps, mopes, Mondays--all that's dismal--low-down gloomy music, Nova Scotians, cyanosis, hair rinse, bluing, bleach; the rare blue dahlia like the blue moon shrewd things happen only once in, or the call for trumps in whist (but who remembers whist or what the death of unplayed games is like?), and correspondingly the flag, Blue Peter, which is our signal for getting under way; a swift pitch, Confederate money, the shaded slopes of clouds and mountains, and so the constantly increasing absentness of Heaven (ins Blaue hinein, the Germans say), consequently the color of everything that's empty: blue bottles, bank accounts, and compliments, for instance.

BLUE pencils, blue noses, blue movies, laws, blue legs and stockings, the language of birds, bees, and flowers as sung by longshoremen, that lead-like look the skin has when affected by cold, contusion, sickness, fear; the rotten rum or gin they call blue ruin and the blue devils of its delirium; Russian cats and oysters, a withheld or imprisoned breath, the blue they say that diamonds have, deep holes in the ocean and the blazers which English athletes earn that gentlemen may wear; afflictions of the spirit—dumps, mopes, Mondays—all that’s dismal—low-down gloomy music, Nova Scotians, cyanosis, hair rinse, bluing, bleach; the rare blue dahlia like that blue moon shrewd things happen only once in, or the call for trumps in whist (but who remembers whist or what the death of unplayed games is like?), and correspondingly the flag, Blue Peter, which is our signal for getting under way; a swift pitch, Confederate money, the shaded slopes of clouds and mountains, and so the constantly increasing absentness of Heaven (ins Blaue hinein, the Germans say), consequently the color of everything that’s empty: blue bottles, bank accounts, and compliments, for instance, or, when the sky’s turned turtle, the blue-green bleat of ocean (both the same), and, when in Hell, its neatly landscaped rows of concrete huts and gas-blue flames; social registers, examination booklets, blue bloods, balls, and bonnets, beards, coats, collars, chips, and cheese . . . the pedantic, indecent and censorious . . . watered twilight, sour sea: through a scrambling of accidents, blue has become their color, just as it’s stood for fidelity.

Geralmente a nascença dos estylos se origina ou das necessidades características de cada povo, pelos materiaes mais accessiveis, pela natureza do solo ou do clima, ou então por um desses fortes movi- mentos espirituaes que modificam a situação do homem em face da cousa publica, dando-lhe novas necessidades e deveres...

Nesse sentido, a religião não é diferente do racismo. Uma versão dela inspira e provoca a outra. Uma vez, me fizeram outra pergunta capciosa, um pouco mais profunda do que a de Dennis Prager, que foi projetada para descobrir meu nível de preconceito latente. Você está em uma plataforma de metrô em Nova York, tarde da noite, em uma estação deserta. De repente, um grupo de uma dúzia de homens negros aparece. Você fica onde está ou se move para a saída? Eu pude novamente responder que já tive essa exata experiência. Esperando sozinho por um trem, bem depois da meia-noite, fui subitamente acompanhado por um grupo de operários saindo do túnel com suas ferramentas e luvas de trabalho. Todos eles eram negros. Senti-me instantaneamente mais seguro e me movi em direção a eles. Não faço ideia de qual era a afiliação religiosa deles. Mas, em todos os outros casos que citei, a religião tem sido um enorme multiplicador de suspeitas e ódios tribais, com membros de cada grupo falando do outro precisamente nos tons do preconceito.

The Maw opens up between West 18th and 24th Streets, smack in the middle of Manhattan, a giant collapse sinkhole nearly half a mile across, its black so absolute it devours whatever preconceptions you might have had about darkness in one bone-snapping gnash. Nova-lights hang in a concentric ring on the concrete barrier, like a giant chalk line in an old-timey crime movie. The body: the Maw. The crime: existing.