Prequel Quotes

I usually wouldn't be this close to you without a tetnus shot.

And yet day and night meet fleetingly at twilight and dawn," he said, lowering his voice again and narrowing his eyes and moving his head a quarter of an inch closer to hers. "And their merging sometimes affords the beholder the most enchanted moments of all the twenty four hours. A sunrise or sunset can be ablaze with brilliance and arouse all the passion, all the yearning, in the soul of the beholder.

6:08 and the next dude in line is buying the new King and The Shining just to be bold — he calls The Shining a prequel and I want to cut his face

The road ahead is unknown to all. I cannot offer you wisdom or guidance. Only the promise that I will never leave you.

The path is here," he said quietly. "But you are free to walk it or choose another way.

Ember pulled his face to hers, kissing him again before she said, “Your strength gives me courage.” He smiled gently. “No, Ember, that is all your strength and none of mine.” She balked, but he kissed her, murmuring against her lips, “And that is why I love you.

Our children are our sequels. Our parents are our prequels. All living beings are our equals.

Don’t get smart - you two are in a heap of trouble!” snarled Anderson. “Names!” “Names?” repeated the long-haired driver. “Er — well, let’s see. There’s Wilberforce . . . Bathsheba . . . Elvendork . . .” “And what’s nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy or a girl,” said the boy in glasses. “Oh, our names, did you mean?” asked the first, as Anderson spluttered with rage. “You should’ve said! This here is James Potter, and I’m Sirius Black!” “Things’ll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little —

Things must be loved before they are lovely.

This time her heart would not break, even though it would hurt and hurt for a long time to come. Perhaps for the rest of her life. But it would not break. She had the strength to go on alone.

How could you possibly have a dark secret involving the Star Wars prequels? Are you responsible for Jar Jar Binks?

If ever you do go back, what is it you want of Evesham?" "Do I know? [...] The silence, it might be ... or the stillness. To have no more running to do ... to have arrived, and have no more need to run. The appetite changes. Now I think it would be a beautiful thing to be still.

You meet someone who changes your world and when they leave you’re left as a stranger in the world. You don’t even know yourself. - Keaira

And don’t forget: Elvendork! It’s unisex!

Every...woman," the old lady said, "loves a ...rogue.

But I don't need your love, because I am loved by the greatest and most majestic heart in the world. Mine.

think of the prequels like snap shots of a magical land you're about to visit soon. I like to think of them as poisoned apples…once you taste them, you’ll never see fairy tales in the same light again.

Most men don’t realize, it takes more than a big dick and a hard, deep fuck to make a woman come. She climaxes with her mind as much as her body.

I saw the prequels in the theater," Gabe said. "When I was a kid. I thought they were awesome" "And now?" she asked. "They're my first love," he said. "I can't be objective.

Even worse than not being noticed, he decided, was being noticed and found wanting.

there is no greater misery than to remember, with bitter regret, a day when you were happy 

The people we love are usually stronger than we give them credit for. It is the nature of love, perhaps, to want to shoulder all the pain rather than see the loved one suffer. But sometimes pain is better than emptiness. I have been so empty Kit. All my life. So full of emptiness. That is strange paradox is nit not - full of emptiness?

To know of the existence of evil, true evil that corrupted the world, had forever altered her heart and mind. If she had chosen a different path, she wouldn't have slept another night. Her head would have been restless as she thought only of the horrors that might be creeping outside her door, waiting to rend her flesh. She would not live a life as the hunted; she would be the hunter.

A wise man once said the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world he was someone else…

Psychologist: "This, ah, is a new sort of, ah, psychopathology that we're only now beginning to, ah, understand. These, ah, super-serial killers have no, ah, 'type' but, ah, rather consider everyone to be their 'type.'" Gramma: "Did you hear that? Your daddy's a superhero!

If you act for self-gain then no good can come of it. If you act selflessly, then you act well for all and you must not be afraid.

My friend's call me Peter"..."But you can call me Pan." "Why should I call you Pan?" "Because Pan is a god, and I practically own you.

Every child's dream is to push a button and kill imaginary friends.

Revenge is never pretty and often leaves you empty. --Alexandria "Dria" McAndrews

I have always been a spectator of life, you know, never a participant. Never. But now I am. Today I am, and I an awed and deliriously happy. This is the adventure I asked for, the adventure I am having I will be forever grateful to you.

I am free, you see," she said, "to love or to withhold love. Love and dependence need no longer be the same thing to me. I am free to love. that is why I love you and it is the way I love you. If you have come here, Kit, because you think you owe me something, because you believe I might crumble without your protection, then go away again with my blessing and find happiness with someone else." "I love you," he said again.

Why don’t I have a cool name like that. Instead of Lucifer and Beelzebub. I mean, seriously, Beelzebub? It sounds like the name of a brothel or a low life bar. Why can’t I be Lu Von Cipher? Sounds good, right?

There’s always someone bigger and badder who can knock you off your perch—even if you’re me. Never forget it and you don’t have to worry about corruption. You’ll be too afraid with watching your own back. --Alexandria "Dria" McAndrews

We can’t live our lives according to what might have been. We have to live by what is.

Each passing moment, every breath I took, I was worried I’d hear a tick, but not live long enough to hear its tock.

a mixed blessing, like the Star Wars prequels.

I don’t need anyone’s pity, love, or adoration. I am loved by the greatest and most majestic heart in the world: Mine.

Brother Cadfael knew better than to be in a hurry, where souls were concerned. There was plenty of elbow-room in eternity.

She'd been a silly girl who'd dreamed of love, and a stupid girl who'd declared love a fraud; but she'd never imagined that when she found it,it would be richer, more powerful than dreams, and the impossibility of keeping it more painful than the worst betrayal.

I am free, you see," she said, "to love or to withhold love. Love and dependence need no longer be the same thing to me. I am free to love. That is why I love you, and it is the way I love you.

Because evil is a point of view. ~Wolf

Most of us fail, but it’s the journey that matters, not the ending.

I knew how to use a dictionary, and if I was going to be spending time around Nero Wolfe, I would have to buy one."-Archie Goodwin in Archie Meets Nero Wolfe

That is what we believe in and what we are fighting for. The right to the joy of life. The right to our own life. The right to love.

I know I turn on girls my age. But is it possible that I make the Queen of Sorrow uncomfortable with my beauty? Mirror, mirror.

A wise man once said the fact that everyone lies is a universal truth, the only variable is about what.

The wizards from the mid-1990s or later refused to discuss any movies at all for fear of letting slip any details of the Star Wars prequels or the fourth Indiana Jones, a group of works that the later wizards would only refer to by the collective title The Unpleasantness.

The story that I thought was this life didn't start on the day I went to that park The story that I think will be my life starts today Anything that happened before today is only the prequel the backstory the story behind the story Nothing before today matters

You know what Adage means?" She asked me. I shook my head no. "It's a beautiful word," she said. "People will tell you it means the purest love in the world, or love that consumes you, but I know what it really mean. It means love beyond reason, and that is the best love in the world.

Remember, the law is history, and history is just another story. Each of these events had a prequel and a sequel - a cause and an effect. Before you answer, put all the facts you know on an imaginary timeline. Find the contradictions, focus on what's missing, and then fill in the blanks the best you can.

Sou todas as pessoas que já fui - esclareceu - e todas as experiências que vivi. Não tenho de fazer opções. Não tenho de renegar uma identidade para poder reclamar outra. Sou quem sou." In "Uma noite de amor

A journey of self-discovery is never pointless, Prince Zuko. However dim your path may seem, and however far you may wander from it...the important thing is that you learn from all of your mistakes along the way and never forget for one moment who you are, or what you are struggling to be.

It was a refined sort of bottled fury that had the potential to be devastatingly violent, and yet at the same time he was also a man able to control it.

But the truth can seem awfully small and insignificant when compared to a mountain of lies.

But it was possible to teach what one could not practice.

Things’ll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little —

What is the point of learning to be brave if we're not brave for the right reasons?

Time was the greatest murderer in history.

A wise man once said that the opposite of being alive is being boring, so for God’s sake, don’t be boring !

I know, Magda, your heart, and your loyalty to your love for me. But don’t let that be the end of your ability to love. That love wouldn’t harm me, or diminish me, or change what we had. It can only add to you and who you are. You need to embrace the reality of what is, not what was.

Looking down from my throne full of thorns, I glanced at the people on Earth. Oh, man. I despised them. It wasn’t like they were becoming better humans or anything, Devil forbid. In fact, they all roasted in their sin, mayonnaised in their stupidity, tomato-sauced in their envy and anger toward each other....

How would I feel about hearing that the plague killed another nearby village a month later? Didn’t I tell you stupidity is the eighth sin? Excerpt From: Cameron Jace. “.

You know what I think? I think that the world never got the time to hate me. It just wanted to hate me long before it met me.

But I was a dreamer, you see, not a weakling.

Daughter… I am with you. I go before you and behind you. I have loved you from the beginning.

Creating beauty is an act of faith.

never forgetting to return to that place in time, holding the hands of his own kind This is Where The Story of You Began

Librarians and archivists and teachers are the Fort Knox of memory, history, and truth. We must defend them with everything we’ve got.

It is impossible,” he said, “to put a label upon remembered feelings. They are colored too much by all our subsequent experiences.

Only if we die, or are threatened with death, do we question and whine about how all this time we wasted the gift of living.

That smile might have been on his lips, but it was not in his eyes.

Some leaned back in their hammocks overlooking Eden, while reading Harry Potter book twenty-three – you don’t have those on Earth, I know. You have to have a membership in Heaven to read those. 

And who knows, thought Cadfael, which is in the right, the young man who sees the best in all, and trusts all, or the old one who suspects all until he has probed them through and through? The one may stumble into a snare now and then, but at least enjoy sunshine along the way, between falls. The other may never miss his footing, but seldom experience joy. Better find a way somewhere between!

How about 4, 5, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7? Think about it for a minute. That approach has the advantage of giving you “I am your father,” and of starting with the mysteries of the two best, while treating the prequels as kind of a flashback (as you’re also focused on the cliffhanger ending of 5). Then you get to wrap everything up with the real finale, and the best, before the third trilogy starts. Not a bad idea at all. A

He had sometimes looked into her eyes and whispered to himself how bewitching she was, as if she weren’t there hearing him, as if he were all alone looking upon some exceptional specimen rather than his wife.

Ladies did not allow fear to master them. Ladies did not abjure society merely because they were embarrassed and unhappy, merely because they felt unattractive and unwanted. Ladies did not give in to self-pity.

Her dad wouldn’t even let her see the prequels. He said she was too young. And then, when she grew up, he said they were too terrible. “They’ll just corrupt your love of Star Wars,” he said. “I wish I could unsee them.

Promises are like silly jokes, told around a table when the food is good and no one has anything to lose by telling a lie or two - lies should have been a synonym for the word 'promise' in dictionaries, but only a few people knew it.

If I had smiled and fawned over you at Lady Mannering’s ball,” she said, “and if I had simpered and giggled during the drive in Hyde Park, you would have lost interest in me in a moment, Lord Ravensberg.” “Good Lord, yes,” he agreed. Perceptive of her. “I would thank you not to take the Lord’s name in vain,” she said so primly that he was momentarily enchanted. “I see that I have behaved in quite the wrong manner with you. I should have encouraged you.” “There is always time,” he suggested, moving his chair half an inch closer to hers, “to mend your ways, Miss Edgeworth.

Aprendi a ficar quieta e a parar de fazer coisas, de ouvir e até de pensar. Aprendi a ser. Aprendi que quase qualquer lugar pode ser um desses lugares especiais, caso eu o permita. Talvez tenha aprendido a encontrar esse lugar dentro de mim.

Now, take a breath, lay back, close the book, brush your eyebrows, go check that pimple on your face in the mirror, or better get yourself a cup of coffee. Let this part sink in for a while because the ride will get bumpier when you continue reading.

We are a very fortunate people, and we know it. That good fortune should not be taken for granted, and so we try to share and try to help. It is our way of saying that we welcome the friendship of those less fortunate, that we do not think ourselves entitled to that which we have, but rather, that we feel blessed beyond what we deserve. And so we share, and so we work, and in doing so, we become something larger than ourselves, and more fulfilled than one can become from idly enjoying good fortune!

Ok, lovebirds,” Jack said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll pull this coffin, unopened, down and hand it to you, Prince Charming. You give me my gold, and you take the coffin with your monster inside and have your ‘own scary ever after’. Are we clear?

They danced to beat back the fear. They danced after hearing someone else they knew had died in a foreign land or was reported missing in action. They danced to be so exhausted they could sleep. They danced to shut off the voices, the questions, the uncertainty.

But who I was, who you loved, no longer exists. I have passed on. In your world, only my memory can exist. Your loyalty to me because of that memory is a part of life, but it can become disloyalty to yourself if you hold it so closely that it crowds out the rest of life.

I love you because… wait… I take a drag from my pipe… I really don’t know. I think that’s the beauty of love, wanting to be with someone, taste their sweetness and their fears, live their lives and be there in their death, share their ups and their downs, and most importantly, love them and grow old with them, even if they were some kind of monsters. Have you ever been unable to shake your soul free, wrapped with your lover’s velvet rope around your heart? Have you ever been enchanted with a nameless spell that made pain and pleasure synonymous?

I think that’s the beauty of love, wanting to be with someone; taste their sweetness and their fears, live their lives and be there in their death, share their ups and their downs, and most importantly, love them and grow old with them, even if they were some kind of monster.

The extraordinary thing is this: that the moment you make a story or create an image that finds favour with an audience, you’ve effectively lost it. It toddles off, the little bastard; it becomes the property of the fans. It’s they who create around it their own mythologies; who make sequels and prequels in their imagination; who point out the inconsistencies in your plotting. I can envisage no greater compliment. What more could a writer or a film maker ever ask, than that their fiction be embraced and become part of the dream-lives of people who it’s likely he’ll never meet?

Jay would return to New York one day. When he did, he would make something of himself--not by way of luck or happenstance, but by means of his own industry. One day he would make New York his own. This indisputabe fact was his inescapable destiny. Only, he wasn't quite ready for that--not yet.

I may have said that stories can have a multitude of false starts. But now that I think about it, I'm not sure there's any such thing. It's sort of like the best comics — frames burst into one another, and colours bleed between lines, and the richness of a universe is only fully graspable when you understand the prequels and crossovers and spin-offs and stuff. Like the superhero stories that veer through a thousand different incarnations, with no beginning or end. It's possible that this is a rubbish metaphor. My point is, most stories can only start when you place yourself in them. And I think I'm ready, finally, to draw myself in mine.

An Enforcer’s style is to destroy all magicians in sight and lap up their essence like a starved cur.

with the congregation

Don't ever give up your music, David. It may save your life one day.

Our inner fire is the spark of hope that drives us through even the darkest times. Do not be so quick to dismiss it.

I’m part of the package, kitten. Your bodyguard, babysitter and tattle-tale, all rolled into one.” Flashing his teeth at me, he added, “Aren’t you pleased?

You make yourself sound like a girl.” “I rather feel like one right now, and I have to tell you, I don’t like it.” He shook his head. “I have new respect for all of them, putting up with us telling them what to do.

By the time she had finished, her hand was in Elizabeth's firm clasp again. Her touch was strangely comforting—a woman's touch signifying a woman's sympathy. Elizabeth would understand what it would be like to be a captive, to have one's freedom taken away, and then, as a final indignity, to have one's very body invaded and used for the pleasure of one's captor. Another woman would understand the monumental inner battle that had had to be waged every single day and night to cling to that something at the core of herself that was herself, that gave her identity and dignity. That something that even a rapist—even, perhaps, a murderer—could not take away from her.

We habitually stand in our now and look back by faith to see the past filled with God. We look forward and see Him inhabiting our future; but our now is uninhabited except for ourselves. Thus we are guilty of a kind of temporary atheism which leaves us alone in the universe while, for the time, God is not. We talk of Him much and loudly, but we secretly think of Him as being absent, and we think of ourselves as inhabiting a parenthetic interval between the God who was and the God who will be. And we are lonely with an ancient and cosmic loneliness. So we try by every method devised by religion to relieve our fears and heal our hidden sadness; but with all our efforts we remain unhappy still, with the settled despair of men alone in a vast and deserted universe. But for all our fears we are not alone.

It was my mother, my frequent co-conspirator in the kitchen and my conduit to our past, who suggested the means to convey this epic disjunction, this unruly collision of collectivist myths and personal antimyths. We would reconstruct every decade of Soviet history - from the prequel 1910s to the postscript present day - through the prism of food. Together, we'd embark on a yearlong journey unlike any other: eating and cooking our way through decade after decade of Soviet life, using her kitchen and dining room as a time machine and an incubator of memories. Memories of wartime rationing cards and grotesque shared kitchens in communal apartments. Of Lenin's bloody grain requisitioning and Stalin's table manners. Of Khrushchev's kitchen debates and Gorbachev's disastrous antialcohol policies. Of food as the focal point of our everyday lives, and - despite all the deprivations and shortages - of compulsive hospitality and poignant, improbable feasts.

I twirled in front of the mirror slowly, wanting to see the full effect of my new dress front and back. It was a daring little thing made of black silk, its front held by thin strings tied behind my neck and completely backless.  I did another twirl, asking out loud, “Do you think this looks good on me?” I wanted my friends’ opinions before they left to have dinner with their families and I had to leave for my second date with my week-old boyfriend. “Everything looks good on you,” Alyx said, rolling her eyes. She was on the armchair in the corner, one leg tossed carelessly over the side. Slender with boyishly cut hair, she could always be counted on to say the truth, no matter how harsh it was. Even so, I still felt insecure. I always was when it came to the boy I loved. Glancing at the other girl who made up our close-knit trio, I asked Yanna, “What do you think?” “It’s what I always think,” Yanna said simply. Petite and curvy, she was lying on her stomach on the floor, flipping through the latest issue of Teen Vogue. Seeing that I was waiting for an explanation, she laughed and elaborated obediently, “You look drop dead gorgeous.”  The words should have comforted me, but it didn’t. I knew Yanna meant what she said, and not just because she happened to be the nicest and most polite person I knew. She was also hopeless when it came to lying, and that was probably why I felt worse now. Doubt had shadowed her gaze as she uttered the compliment, and the sight made it harder for me to stay deaf to the warning inside my head.