Superman 3 Quotes

Never seen Jason fly before," Percy grumbled. "He looks like a blond Superman

How poor are they that have no patients! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?'" "Shakespeare isn't going to save you this time, Superman. Your time's run out." He scowled. "Perhaps I should have been studying The Taming of the Shrew!

Huh," said Percy. "Never seen Jason fly before. He looks like a blond superman.

Alex the waiter was on my Spank Naughty list in third place, right after Henry Calvill the actor, then Henry Calvill as Superman. He was proof that God existed, and that God loved straight women.

I grinned. “So you are human after all.” I touched his chest, feeling him breathe hard in and out. “I always thought you were made of steel, you know,” I said. “Superman?” Nat arched his eyebrows. “No, the Tin Man,” I answered back. I settled my head against his chest, turning my ear to listen to his heartbeat. “I sometimes wondered if you had a heart.” - Summer, Perfect Summer

So, we made a bet. She would get pregnant if I could get her pregnant. While she was on birth control. I knew I was Superman.

If I go crazy will you still call me superman? If i'm alive and well will you be there holding my hand?

From: Beth Fremont To: Jennifer Scribner-Snyder Sent: Thurs, 09/30/1999 3:42 PM Subject: If you were Superman … … and you could choose any alter ego you wanted, why the hell would you choose to spend your Clark Kent hours — which already suck because you have to wear glasses and you can’t fly — at a newspaper? Why not pose as a wealthy playboy like Batman? Or the leader of a small but important nation like Black Panther? Why would you choose to spend your days on deadline, making crap money, dealing with terminally crabby editors?

Is there more about the world I don’t know? Like, does Superman exist?” I asked. “Vampires and werewolves roam the earth. It’s a possibility,” he answered. I smiled as I asked, “Could you kick his ass?” “Absolutely,” he replied. “Cocky,” I muttered.

I knew I was Superman.

Never seen Jason fly before,” Percy grumbled. “He looks like a blond Superman.

Superman," she muttered. "I should have known you had magic in your genes." "Why, yes, Mrs. Emerson, I do have magic in my jeans. I'd happily put on a magic show for you at any time. All you need to do is ask.

You realize this makes us mortal enemies? You’re now the Lex Luthor to my Superman, the Magneto to my Professor Xavier.” “With your comic book obsession obviously still in full effect, I’d say I’m more the Wendy to your Peter Pan complex.

he’d wondered aloud if the Scottish-Japanese technophile wanted to be Batman. “You already have the lair, the finances and the right equipment,” he’d said. “Why do you ask? Do you have a fetish for rich men in masks?” Ken asked, smiling that angelic smile. “I don’t have fetishes,” Brady responded quickly. “But he isn’t my type. He’s got a cave full of baggage and relies on toys instead of natural talent. Give me Superman any day.

This was it. This would be my final mission. An overwhelming sadness swept over me at the realization. There would be no more racing across campus to replace the missing arm of the Caesar Augustus statue with one made of pink duct tape. My mind would no longer be used as a photographic tool to unveil a terrorist’s plan. No more last-minute science experiments to help rescue a father and daughter from a terrorist organization. I wouldn’t get to rescue myself with the aid of a Millard-enhanced device. No more disguises involving wigs and glasses to save a Van Gogh painting. The Mariinsky Theatre, the Superman building, the Louvre—my stories would disappear, along with my memories. Light had vanished around me as the ocean swallowed me. I’d been unable to save a helpless girl from her evil kidnapper. In the darkness I heard Daly’s voice, clear and strong, almost like he was there. Don’t give up. Fight. Push yourself. Alexandra Stewart can make a masterpiece out of any canvas. He was right—I couldn’t give up. (page 206)

I sprinkle some flour on the dough and roll it out with the heavy, wooden rolling pin. Once it’s the perfect size and thickness, I flip the rolling pin around and sing into the handle—American Idol style. “Calling Gloriaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa . . .” And then I turn around. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Without thinking, I bend my arm and throw the rolling pin like a tomahawk . . . straight at the head of the guy who’s standing just inside the kitchen door. The guy I didn’t hear come in. The guy who catches the hurling rolling pin without flinching—one-handed and cool as a gorgeous cucumber—just an inch from his perfect face. He tilts his head to the left, looking around the rolling pin to meet my eyes with his soulful brown ones. “Nice toss.” Logan St. James. Bodyguard. Totally badass. Sexiest guy I have ever seen—and that includes books, movies and TV, foreign and domestic. He’s the perfect combo of boyishly could-go-to-my-school kind of handsome, mixed with dangerously hot and tantalizingly mysterious. If comic-book Superman, James Dean, Jason Bourne and some guy with the smoothest, most perfectly pitched, British-Scottish-esque, Wessconian-accented voice all melded together into one person, they would make Logan fucking St. James. And I just tried to clock him with a baking tool—while wearing my Rick and Morty pajama short-shorts, a Winnie-the-Pooh T-shirt I’ve had since I was eight and my SpongeBob SquarePants slippers. And no bra. Not that I have a whole lot going on upstairs, but still . . . “Christ on a saltine!” I grasp at my chest like an old woman with a pacemaker. Logan’s brow wrinkles. “Haven’t heard that one before.” Oh fuck—did he see me dancing? Did he see me leap? God, let me die now. I yank on my earbuds’ cord, popping them from my ears. “What the hell, dude?! Make some noise when you walk in—let a girl know she’s not alone. You could’ve given me a heart attack. And I could’ve killed you with my awesome ninja skills.” The corner of his mouth quirks. “No, you couldn’t.” He sets the rolling pin down on the counter. “I knocked on the kitchen door so I wouldn’t frighten you, but you were busy with your . . . performance.” Blood and heat rush to my face. And I want to melt into the floor and then all the way down to the Earth’s core.

1. Nhiều người từ bỏ việc học sau khi họ ra trường vì mười ba hoặc hai mươi năm giáo dục với động lực từ bên ngoài vẫn là một nguồn ký ức khó chịu. Sự chú ý của họ đã bị thao túng đủ lâu từ bên ngoài bởi những quyển sách giáo khoa và các giáo viên, và họ đã coi ngày tốt nghiệp là ngày đầu tiên của tự do. 2. Truyền thuyết xưa cũ này tiếp tục truyền đi qua hàng thế kỷ. Phòng chờ của các bác sĩ tâm thần được lấp đầy bởi những bệnh nhân giàu có và thành công, những người ở độ tuổi bốn mươi, năm mươi bất chợt thức tỉnh trước sự thật rằng một căn nhà ngoại ô sang trọng, những chiếc xe hơi đắt tiền và ngay cả một nền giáo dục đẳng cấp ở Ivy League15 cũng không đủ để mang lại sự bình yên trong tâm trí. Thế nhưng mọi người vẫn tiếp tục hy vọng rằng sự thay đổi các điều kiện bên ngoài trong đời sống của họ sẽ mang lại một giải pháp. Họ tin rằng chỉ cần có thể kiếm được nhiều tiền hơn, có diện mạo đẹp hơn, hay có một người bạn đời thấu hiểu hơn thì họ sẽ thật sự hạnh phúc. Mặc dù chúng ta nhận ra rằng thành công về mặt vật chất có thể không mang lại hạnh phúc, song chúng ta vẫn lao vào một cuộc chiến đấu không hồi kết để đạt tới các mục tiêu bên ngoài, trông mong rằng chúng sẽ cải thiện cuộc đời mình. 3. TẠI NHỮNG THỜI ĐIỂM NHẤT ĐỊNH trong lịch sử, các nền văn hóa đã mặc định rằng một cá nhân không hoàn toàn được xem là con người trừ khi anh ta hoặc cô ta học được cách làm chủ các suy nghĩ và cảm xúc của mình

I can't always be Lois Lane, I want to be Superman, too

So I wasn’t the only one who thought he looked like Superman’s alter ego.

Doesn't matter what planet they come from, men are so freaking dense.

Superman lives in Metropolis and Batman lives in Gotham. The rest of us just try to get along.

A strong and bitter book-sickness floods one’s soul. How ignominious to be strapped to this ponderous mass of paper, print and dead man’s sentiment. Would it not be better, finer, braver to leave the rubbish where it lies and walk out into the world a free untrammelled illiterate Superman? Solomon Eagle

He looks like a blond Superman.