The Grizzlies Movie Quotes

Oh, man, don’t get me started on the subject of childhood brainwash. I hate that. Every fairy story, every Disney movie, every plot with animals in it, the bad guy is always the top carnivore. Wolf, grizzly, anaconda, Tyrannosaurus rex.

The irony I’ve always found most haunting about Grizzly Man was how close it came to avoiding its ending, thus never being made at all. How close Timothy Treadwell and Amie Huguenard came to going home. They’d called it a season, packed up their gear, and got as far as the airport ticket counter before deciding to return to the Alaskan bush awhile longer. As if they’d heard a call to go back. Had Lydia seen this, and never told me? She would know I had. And trusted I would understand exactly what it meant when, after a trip to the bathroom at Vancouver International, I found her seat in our gate’s waiting area empty. Or if not right away, I’d get the message eventually. When I missed our flight, too, I couldn’t say if it was because I was still waiting for her to come back. Or because I wasn’t aware of when everyone else started to board. Or because I was trying to work up the courage to go after her, but couldn’t get past my fear of the mess that might be waiting. Mostly I wished I’d paid more attention to how much of herself Lydia must have seen in Stefan—alive in the wrong time, unable to see anything more ahead for her. All I’d ever wanted was someone to watch movies with, and talk about what they meant before we went to bed. Profound ones. Silly ones. All the ones in between. It seemed so simple, so little to ask for. So why couldn’t I have reached out a hand’s length farther, and accepted it? But as I sat transfixed by the sky, by the clouds and all they concealed, the maker of teeth made it clear. That’s not how this universe works. That’s not how any of this works.

I love you so much, angel,” I whispered. “If anyone ever hurts you, I’ll kill them.” And I meant it. At this point it seems important to note that I am not a violent person. True story: I capture flies under plastic cups and relocate them into the wild. So, I quite literally wouldn’t hurt a fly. My soul belongs in an overstuffed teddy bear, but something inside me had changed. I wasn’t just a momma bear; I was a momma grizzly. An Ursus arctos horribilis, y’all. Accent on the horribilis. From the moment you become a parent, your heart moves outside of your body. There is nothing you wouldn’t do, no line you wouldn’t cross, to protect the child that you love. As I held my son and felt that grizzly roar within, I was forced to reckon with the possibility that I had never loved anyone like this before. That before I became a parent, my life was a little bit selfish. Not that I was a jerk or anything. It was simply this: Every decision, until I had children, was made in the interest of me. I was out in the world, living free and wild, taking consequences as they came. But when a child is born, so is a mother. And in her, a grizzly awakens. Her love is maternal, instinctive, and deep. And when necessary, even dangerous. There are certain movies you watch as a kid which inspire you to do stupid

Dixie shook her head impatiently. “Not a chance, not a ghost of a chance! Our early-warning facilities are geared to detect the approach of missiles hailing from outside our borders, certainly not from Grizzly Gulch, Illinois! Try to imagine the resultant confusion, the bewildering questions—was the missile one of ours—was this an accident—what, where, how, why, whom? And all of this, mind you, with the very nerve center of the country obliterated!. Why, my God, Kirby, it would have been a scene out of a Three Stooges movie—we wouldn’t have known if our asses were punched or bored!

Oh.” Svetlana smiled warmly. She and Zoe had been smitten with each other from the moment they met; that was one of the main reasons Svetlana had defected. “That’s a good point. I vote for this French Riviera training too.” “Well, it’s not going to happen,” Erica said curtly, seeming annoyed with all of us. “This isn’t the movies. Spies don’t get caviar-level expense accounts and stay at ritzy hotels on the French Riviera. Most likely, you’re eating cold room-service borscht at a run-down hostel in Vladivostok.” “That’s still better than this,” Mike grumped, indicating the rain. Since our camp was located in a stand of old-growth forest, the thick canopy of leaves above was protecting us from the elements somewhat. Out on the open mountain passes we had been constantly drenched; now we were only getting moderately drizzled on. However, this wasn’t exactly a good thing, as the drier ground had attracted bears. Dozens of bears lived in the area surrounding our camp. They were all black bears, which meant they were significantly smaller than the grizzlies that roamed much of Alaska, but that didn’t mean they were small. Each weighed at least a hundred pounds, and some of the adult males were five times that. In addition, the bears had far more sense than we did and had sought shelter from the rain, rather than hiking in it for hours. They were all lurking in the forest around us. I had caught sight of a few in the distance, ripping apart logs in search of grubs or curled up and snoozing in dry spots. In general, the bears stayed away from us, but that wasn’t because they had signed a treaty. They were still wild animals. It was always possible that one might feel threatened and decide to attack.