Terminal Film Quotes

Your generation - you've not heard the Verve or Jimi Hendrix or Eminem, you've not read The Catcher in the Rye, you've not seen a classic film like Terminator or Blade Runner. All you've done is read dross, listen to crap and watch Disney movies with happy endings. And what kind of generation have we produced? A slow, simple, dull one who never questions anything. A stunted generation. It's devolution because in order for society to progress, you need to be able to debate ideas, to question, to see the dark and the light in things

Ever since the robot was first invented, there have been people who swear up and down that this marks the first step towards the fall of man … To be fair, their arguments are backed with scientific fact taken from documentary films such as The Terminator, The Matrix, and RoboCop.

Hasta la vista, baby.

Our brain is a circuit board with neurons and terminals ready to be wired. We are born free, then programmed to obey our parents, to tell the truth, pass exams, pursue and achieve, love and propagate, age and fade unfulfilled and uncertain what it has all been for. We swallow the operating system with our mother's milk and sleepwalk into the forest of consumer illusion craving shoes, houses, cars, magazines, experiences that endorse our preconceived dreams and opinions. We grow into our parents. We becomes clones, robots, matchstick men thinking and saying the same, feeling the same, behaving the same, appreciating in books and films and art shows those things we already recognize and understand.

Use filmmaking to eliminate racism – use to it terminate misogyny – use it to destroy homophobia and all other primitiveness.

People don't tend to employ me. I'm the wrong personality type. Or rather, people do tend to employ me for a short time and then they sack me. A film broker once told me, as she terminated my contract, that I have a misleading sort of face. "You're pretty", she complained. "Your features are symmetrical and there was an article in Grazia that says human beings are programmed to find those with symmetrical features more pleasing to they eye. So this isn't my fault, I was simply responding to a biological imperative. You've even teeth, so when you smile, you look...sweet, I suppose. But you're not, are you?" "I hope not," I said. "You see, there you go again. You're a smart-arse and you've no ability to filter your thoughts---" "And my thoughts are often abrasive." "Exactly." "I'll just get my brushes and sponges and leave." "If you would.

Bear in mind that Mother Teresa’s global income is more than enough to outfit several first-class clinics in Bengal. The decision not to do so, and indeed to run instead a haphazard and cranky institution which would expose itself to litigation and protest were it run by any branch of the medical profession, is a deliberate one. The point is not the honest relief of suffering but the promulgation of a cult based on death and suffering and subjection. Mother Teresa (who herself, it should be noted, has checked into some of the finest and costliest clinics and hospitals in the West during her bouts with heart trouble and old age) once gave this game away in a filmed interview. She described a person who was in the last agonies of cancer and suffering unbearable pain. With a smile, Mother Teresa told the camera what she told this terminal patient: “You are suffering like Christ on the cross. So Jesus must be kissing you.” Unconscious of the account to which this irony might be charged, she then told of the sufferer’s reply: “Then please tell him to stop kissing me.” There are many people in the direst need and pain who have had cause to wish, in their own extremity, that Mother Teresa was less free with her own metaphysical caresses and a little more attentive to actual suffering.

Aku selalu berpikir tentang laki laki. Yang aku kenal atau pun yang tidak. Akan tetapi, aku mungkin saja tidak memikirkan mereka. Banyak laki laki cerdas dan menyenangkan. Tapi tak sedikit pula laki laki bodoh yang menjemukan dan membosankan. Laki laki yang tak pernah membaca buku, tak pernah mendengarkan musik, tak pernah nonton film. Laki laki botak yang tidak menarik. Laki laki yang jadi suami ibuku. Laki laki kurus yang membesarkanku. Laki laki ramah yang menyapaku di jalan. Laki laki tua yang menyenangkan dan mengajakku ngobrol di taman. Laki laki muda yang mencuri lihat untuk mengambil sesuatu dari diriku. Laki laki berkumis yang berpikir diriku terlalu sexy. Laki laki yang tidak punya pikiran lain kecuali mencari kesempatan untuk mengajakku tidur. Laki laki gombal. Laki laki palsu. Laki laki yang mengejar ngejar diriku. Laki laki yang sama sekali tak peduli pada penampilanku. Laki laki gembrot berkacamata. Laki laki pengantar makanan, supir gojek, pengangkut barang barang di terminal. Laki laki yang aku temui di media sosial. Laki laki yang setiap malam mengirim pesan pesan mesum. Laki laki yang mengajakku video call. Laki laki hidung belang yang menggodaku. Laki laki yang berusaha menjadikan diriku selingkuhannya. Laki laki biasa dan luar biasa. Laki laki istimewa. Laki laki yang dulu pernah aku cintai dan tak bisa kuhapus dari ingatan. Laki laki yang aku benci karena pergi meninggalkanku. Laki laki yang kepadanya ingin aku serahkan seluruh hidupku. Laki laki yang memintaku jadi istrinya. Laki laki yang aku nikahi. Laki laki yang jadi bapak anak anakku. Laki laki yang tak bisa hidup tanpaku. Laki laki yang selalu ingin tahu apa yang aku pikirkan. Laki laki baik yang tak pernah membenci siapa pun. Laki laki yang tak pernah lahir dan tak pernah ada.

The ultimate irony in this vast struggle (available to audience members who want to think about it but easily ignored by those who accept the semi-happy ending ) is the irony in many time loop (or ontological paradox) stories: John Connor has created himself (though he has not gone as far as the character in Robert Heinlein’s “All You Zombies” who is both his own father and mother). Far worse, by saving his mother’s life and ensuring the destruction of the Terminator, John Connor has created Skynet just as surely as Skynet has created John Connor by trying to kill him. Both Connor and Skynet exist in a time loop without outside causality. The Terminator’s surviving arm makes Skynet possible, but it is never invented, only found and back-engineered. Kyle Reese comes across time for Sarah Connor because of a picture and because John Connor asks him to, but neither the picture nor John Connor would exist if Reese had not already gone back in time. The simplest way to save the world is to let the Terminator kill Sarah Connor. Then (in all probability), no one would find a piece of the advanced technology, and Skynet could not be built. But, Cameron’s plot suggests, the “perils to come that would result from our hubris and blind faith in technology” may be inescapable, a time loop, a feedback loop, leading directly if not necessarily inevitably to destruction."Fighting the History Wars on the Big Screen: From the Terminator to Avatar" from The Films of James Cameron

Les chansons, les livres et les films qui se "terminent bien", s'arrêtent tous au "bon" moment. Ils ne racontent pas toute l'histoire. Seules les anciennes tragédies disent la vérité. Beowulf triomphe de Grendel et de sa mère, mais uniquement pour périr en combattant un dragon. Gilgamesh perd son meilleur ami. Achille aussi. Dans Hamlet, tout le monde meurt. C'est la seule vérité.

Sometimes I think of my death,’ wrote Kurosawa, ‘I think of ceasing to be... and it is from these thoughts that Ikiru came.’ The story of a man diagnosed with stomach cancer, Kurosawa’s film is a serious contemplation of the nature of existence and the question of how we find meaning in our lives. Opening with a shot of an x-ray, showing the main character’s stomach, Ikiru, tells the tale of a dedicated, downtrodden civil servant who, diagnosed with a fatal cancer, learns to change his dull, unfulfilled existence, and suddenly discovers a zest for life. Plunging first into self-pity, then a bout of hedonistic pleasure-seeking on the frentic streets of post-war Tokyo, Watanabe - the film’s hero, finally finds satisfaction through building a children’s playground. In this, the role of his career, Shimura plays Kanji Watanabe, a senior civil servant sunk in ossified routine - a man who, as the dispassionate narrator tells us, has lived like a corpse for twenty-five years. Confronted with the news that he has terminal cancer with only months to live, he finds himself driven to give some meaning to his life. This was one of Kurosawa’s own favourites among his films. It grew, he said, out of a sense of his own mortality. Although he was only 42 and had yet to make most of his finest films, he was tormented with doubts about what his own life would be worth, saying, ‘I keep feeling I have lived so little. My heart aches with this feeling.’ From this angle, the film can be seen as a form of therapy, Kurosawa reassuring himself, and us, that life *can* be made to have meaning, even under the shadow of imminent death. As the critic Richard Brown wrote, Ikiru ‘consists of a restrained affirmation within the context of a giant negation. What it says in starkly lucid terms is that ‘life’ is meaningless when all’s said and done; at the same time one man’s life can acquire meaning when he undertakes to perform some task which is meaningful *to him*. What everyone else thinks about that man’s life is utterly beside the point, even ludicrous. The meaning of his life is what he commits the meaning of his life to be. There is nothing else.

Then the five of us talked about junior year and how we felt this looming pressure toward taking the SATs. Afterwards, we somehow got on the topic of artificial intelligence and whether society would become like The Terminator films. You know, typical conversation. It was enjoyable.

Even for Terminator 2, perennially in my DVD player, which is the finest film ever fucking made, and one of the best feminist movies of all time.

The Misfits Marilyn întârzia zilnic cu orele la filmare, pentru că lua atâtea tranchilizante, că era cu neputinţă să fie trezită. Pare-se că se simţea trădată de cei trei amanţi, J.F. Kennedy, Yves Montand şi Miller însuşi, care o folosise pentru a-şi repune cariera pe linia de plutire. Iar când ajungea pe platoul de filmare, mare lucru nu reuşea să facă: ori uitase textul, ori avea o privire atât de pierdută, încât regizorul John Huston renunţa să filmeze. Clark Gable avea cincizeci şi nouă de ani şi nu stătea prea bine cu sănătatea, ceea ce nu-l împiedica să bea doi litri de whisky pe zi şi să fumeze trei pachete de ţigări. Cavaler din şcoala cea veche, nu se enerva niciodată când Marilyn întârzia: se mulţumea s-o ciupească de fund şi s-o îndemne: „La treabă, frumoaso“. La rândul lui, Montgomery Clift o luase şi el pe băutură şi pe droguri după accidentul care îl desfigurase şi, în plus, nici nu-şi asuma homosexualitatea. În atare situaţie, John Huston şi-a pierdut şi el interesul pentru lucru şi-şi petrecea toate nopţile la cazino. Intra la unsprezece şi pleca la cinci dimineaţa. Ajunsese să datoreze atâţia bani, că – se zice – a oprit filmările şi a trimis-o pe Marilyn la spital, ca să câştige timp şi să iasă din încurcătură. A fost o adevărată minune că pe 5 noiembrie 1960 au reuşit să termine filmul. Pesemne că a fost o experienţă dură, căci a doua zi Clark Gable a murit în urma unei crize cardiace. A fost şi ultimul film al lui Marilyn, care nu după multă vreme a sucombat după o supradoză. Bomboana de pe colivă a fost că Vieţi rebele a fost un eşec financiar.

Ces mots sont nuls, "je t'aime", c'est nul. Tout le monde le dit, ça n'appartient même pas à celui qui le dit, ça appartient aux films romantiques, aux séries de lycéens, aux chansons d'amour, ça appartient à Cabrel "Je t'aime". Trop de sens a été injecté là-dedans, trop d'histoires qui commencent ou se terminent par ce petit bout de phrase, et je suis sensé le dire moi aussi?

What I've learnt, having lived with, and lost, Jonathan, is that any relationship worth hanging on to is a partnership. It's two individuals with separate identities, likes, dislikes, views, emotions, opinions, who forge a bond that ties them together, for better and for worse. It's a couple. Two people. Not one. You don't meld into each other, like the books and films would have us believe. That's romantic crap. Love is a choice, an active decision you have to make every single day - every moment of every day. When someone falls ill and their illness becomes terminal, that choice becomes a promise.

Fundamentals of Esperanto The grammatical rules of this language can be learned in one sitting. Nouns have no gender & end in -o; the plural terminates in -oj & the accusative, -on Amiko, friend; amikoj, friends; amikon & amikojn, accusative friend & friends. Ma amiko is my friend. A new book appears in Esperanto every week. Radio stations in Europe, the United States, China, Russia & Brazil broadcast in Esperanto, as does Vatican Radio. In 1959, UNESCO declared the International Federation of Esperanto Speakers to be in accord with its mission & granted this body consultative status. The youth branch of the International Federation of Esperanto Speakers, UTA, has offices in 80 different countries & organizes social events where young people curious about the movement may dance to recordings by Esperanto artists, enjoy complimentary soft drinks & take home Esperanto versions of major literary works including the Old Testament & A Midsummer Night’s Dream. William Shatner’s first feature-length vehicle was a horror film shot entirely in Esperanto. Esperanto is among the languages currently sailing into deep space on board the Voyager spacecraft. - Esperanto is an artificial language constructed in 1887 by L. L. Zamenhof, a polish oculist. following a somewhat difficult period in my life. It was twilight & snowing on the railway platform just outside Warsaw where I had missed my connection. A man in a crumpled track suit & dark glasses pushed a cart piled high with ripped & weathered volumes— sex manuals, detective stories, yellowing musical scores & outdated physics textbooks, old copies of Life, new smut, an atlas translated, a grammar, The Mirror, Soviet-bloc comics, a guide to the rivers & mountains, thesauri, inscrutable musical scores & mimeographed physics books, defective stories, obsolete sex manuals— one of which caught my notice (Dr. Esperanto since I had time, I traded my used Leaves of Grass for a copy. I’m afraid I will never be lonely enough. There’s a man from Quebec in my head, a friend to the purple martins. Purple martins are the Cadillac of swallows. All purple martins are dying or dead. Brainscans of grown purple martins suggest these creatures feel the same levels of doubt & bliss as an eight-year-old girl in captivity. While driving home from the brewery one night this man from Quebec heard a radio program about purple martins & the next day he set out to build them a house in his own back yard. I’ve never built anything, let alone a house, not to mention a home for somebody else. Never put in aluminum floors to smooth over the waiting. Never piped sugar water through colored tubes to each empty nest lined with newspaper shredded with strong, tired hands. Never dismantled the entire affair & put it back together again. Still no swallows. I never installed the big light that stays on through the night to keep owls away. Never installed lesser lights, never rested on Sunday with a beer on the deck surveying what I had done & what yet remained to be done, listening to Styx while the neighbor kids ran through my sprinklers. I have never collapsed in abandon. Never prayed. But enough about the purple martins. Every line of the work is a first & a last line & this is the spring of its action. Of course, there’s a journey & inside that journey, an implicit voyage through the underworld. There’s a bridge made of boats; a carp stuffed with flowers; a comic dispute among sweetmeat vendors; a digression on shadows; That’s how we finally learn who the hero was all along. Weary & old, he sits on a rock & watches his friends fly by one by one out of the song, then turns back to the journey they all began long ago, keeping the river to his right.

În ziua de azi, odată cu apariția aparatelor digitale, fotografia și-a pierdut o parte din suflet. Pozele nu mai au acel caracter crucial și definitiv pe care-l aveau cele clasice. Bună sau proastă, o fotografie este irevocabilă și rămânea fixată pe peliculă. Developarea unui film scotea la iveală în mod implacabil și cronologic imagini reușite și imagini ratate; imposibil să scapi de verdicte și de statistici. Chiar dacă puteai să multiplici fotografiile și să schimbi filmul, fiecare imagine captată avea o valoare unică și reprezenta un mic miracol. Ultima fotografie avea un statut special, o savoare deosebită. Era adeseori făcută la repezeală, doar ca să se termine filmul mai repede; dar uneori, dimpotrivă, amânai s-o faci, erai atent, calculai, voiai să fie o încununare a întregului film. Abia atunci puteai să-l rebobinezi.

It was during the early summer of 1952 that I found myself in the small community park next to Stevens Institute of Technology. Although I had a job, I had only worked as a “soda jerk” for a little over a week before I started looking for something else. The Hoboken waterfront was still familiar to me from earlier years when I walked this way to catch the trolley or the electrified Public Service bus home from the Lackawanna Ferry Terminal. Remembering the gray-hulled Liberty Ships being fitted out for the war at these dilapidated piers, was still very much embedded in my memory. Things had not changed all that much, except that the ships that were once here were now at the bottom of the ocean, sold, or nested at one of the “National Defense Reserve Fleets.” The iconic movie On the Waterfront had not yet been filmed, and it would take another two years before Marlon Brando would stand on the same pier I was now looking down upon, from the higher level of Stevens Park. Labor problems were common during this era, but it was all new to me. I was only 17 years old, but would later remember how Marlon Brando got the stuffing kicked out of him for being a union malcontent. When they filmed the famous fight scene in On the Waterfront, it took place on a barge, tied up in the very same location that I was looking upon.

And among the most bizarre aspects of the ‘total war’ drive in the second half of 1944 was the fact that at precisely the time he was combing out the last reserves of manpower, Goebbels – according to film director Veit Harlan – was allowing him, at Hitler’s express command, to deploy 187,000 soldiers, withdrawn from active service, as extras for the epic colour film of national heroism, Kolberg, depicting the defence of the small Baltic town against Napoleon as a model for the achievements of total war. According to Harlan, Hitler as well as Goebbels was ‘convinced that such a film was more useful than a military victory’. Even in the terminal crisis of the regime, propaganda had to come first.