Showing posts with label quotes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quotes. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Being a writer is a great way to get ladies

Today we begin with a quote. A quote that is more true than any other ever said. Even more true than Rene Descartes' "I think therefore I am". The quote is from Saul Bellow:

"All a writer has to do to get a woman is say he's a writer. It's an aphrodisiac."

Let me start by saying I have that quote on my facebook favorite quotes part of my bio. But that does not make it any less true. While many people consider themselves writers, there are only a few that are truly writers in the sense that Bellow means. A blog you might say, does not qualify someone as a writer. That might very well be true by itself in the same way that someone who writes a book, or pens a poem, is not necessarily a writer.
Why? Well, from my experience, most literate people can write, and do so to prove it from time to time. Some people are prolifically terrible at it, while others are secretly Shakespearian geniuses. I do not profess to be either, yet, I also don't profess to be a muddler who sits on the unenviable stool of mediocrity, unwilling to grovel with the commoners, but not tall enough to reach the stars. That being said, let's get to the meat of it. Why are writers (the real ones) so sexy?

Well, I tend to think it comes from their ability to express things in unique ways. They open up new worlds to us. They create fantasies, visions, and elucidate our aspirations and fears. They take us up and down through a whirlwind of words and thought showing us man's depravity and his capacity for excellence. But on the other hand, they're just innately better (I'm not going to prove that, just take it at face value).

Writers are subject to the same passions, vulnerabilities, lapses of judgment, and bouts of depression as anyone else. Perhaps even more so. And, perhaps because they are so often so close to the precipice women feel they can love them. Here today gone tomorrow. They live life through the pen and see things that others don't. But, you don't have to commit yourself to a writer. I suppose in a way you can't. A writer is only committed to his writing (a good one anyway). But doesn't that make writers a one trick pony? No. writing is not limited to itself. It envelopes everything else. It absorbs every follicle, dust mite, or great expanse that it wants. And, for any writer to articulate himself well, he needs to know it, see it, be it. His mind is a prism and the world is redefined through it. But just as the mind reinvents the world, both the world and the mind are catalysts depending on the moment.

But now for the real reason writers are so great. They are generally not the most amazing physical specimens, but yet, they offer a beauty that far surpasses the physical. And, if they are attractive people, their artful ability to paint the sky with words wraps them with a metaphorical Armani suit, complete with some fabulous cologne. 
I don't even need to make the suggestion that ladies should go after the writer. The ladies come to him. 

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Tribute to Hook

I'm going to share with you one of my favorite movies to quote. Hook. It starred Dustin Hoffman, Bob Hoskins, Robin Williams, Julia Roberts, and Maggie Smith. Here are some good quotes:

Peter Pan: Thank you for believing! (whispering creepily as he flies away from Neverland)

Before descending the stairs from his ship's galley to the poop deck to accuse one of his crew of betting against him:

Captain Hook: Where's the carpet, Smee?

Rufio and Peter have a classic verbal sparring duel at the Lost Boy's imaginary dinner:

Rufio: Boil-dripping, beef, fart-sniffing bubble butt!
Kids: Bangarang, Rufio!
Peter Banning: Someone has a severe ca-ca mouth, you know that?
Rufio: You are fart factory, Slug-slimed, sack-of-rat-guts-in-cat-vomit, cheesy, scab-picked, pimple-squeezing finger bandage. A week old maggot burger with everything on it and flies on the side!
Kids: [in unison] Ugh!
Peter Banning: Substitute chemistry teacher.
Lost Boy: Come on, Rufio, hit him back.
Rufio: Mung tongue.
Peter Banning: Math tutor. 
Rufio: Pinhead.
Peter Banning: Prison barber.
Rufio: Mother lover.
Peter Banning: Nearsighted gynecologist.
Rufio: In your face, camel cake!
Peter Banning: In your rear, cow derrière.
Rufio: Lying, crying, spying, prying ultra-pig.
Peter Banning: You lewd, crude, rude, bag of pre-chewed food dude.
Thud Butt: [with the rest of the Lost Boys] Bangarang, Peter!
Rufio: You... you man! Stupid, stupid man! Peter Banning: Rufio, if I'm a maggot burger why don't you eat me! You two-toned zebra-headed, slime-coated, pimple-farmin' paramecium brain, munchin' on your own mucus, suffering from Peter Pan envy!
Don't Ask: What's a paramecium brain?
Peter Banning: I'll tell you what a paramecium is! That's the paramecium! It's a one-celled critter with no brain, that can't fly! Don't mess with me man, I'm a lawyer!
Kids: [chanting] Banning, Banning, Banning is bangerang.
Rufio: Rufio! Rufio!
Peter Banning: Oh, Rufio, why don't you just go suck on a dead dog's nose.
While Peter and his family is visiting Grandma Wendy in London:

[Toodles is searching for something on the floor]
Toodles: Lost, lost, lost.
Peter Banning: Lost what?
Toodles: I've lost my marbles.

Held captive by Hook, Maggie, (Peter's youngest daughter who refuses to be indoctrinated by Hook) decides to sing one night:

Maggie: [singing] The stars are all my friends / Till the nighttime ends / So I know I'm not alone / When I'm here, on my own. / Isn't that a wonder? / When you're alone / You're not alone / Not really alone

As Captain Hook and Smee settle down for the evening (Smee stuffing his face with food), they brood over their options:

Smee: I've just had an apostrophe.
Captain Hook: I think you mean an epiphany.
Smee: [gestures his fingers to his head] Lightning has just struck my brain.
Captain Hook: Well, that must hurt.

After hearing a ringing sound and finding his cell phone that the dog had buried outside of Wendy's home, Peter answers:

Peter Banning: [unearthing his cell phone] Wow. Brad, hi! You been holding this long? Uh huh. I'm incredible. Yeah, Neverland. Uh-huh. Lost Boys. Jim Hook, duel to the death. I'll fill you in later. Listen, I'd love to chat, but I gotta climb a drain pipe right now. Why? Because I ran out of fairy dust, if not I would've flown up.
[surprised he asks]
Peter Banning: Why?

Peter, sitting next to his son Jack on the plane on route to England:

Peter Banning: Jack, my word is my bond.
Jack: Yeah, junk bonds!
[he hits the ceiling door in the plane with his ball, and causes the oxygen masks to drop down and scare Peter half to death]
Peter Banning: What in the hell's the matter with you? When are you gonna stop acting like a child?
Jack: [laughs] I am a child.
Peter Banning: Grow up.

Peter, while in his room on a long distance business:

Peter Banning: [while the children are running around making a noise, shouting into the phone] Wait a minute. You're telling me a 10-inch owl has a 50-mile mating radius? Why don't they just fornicate someplace else? What, a five billion dollar deal falling apart because of this? Why doesn't somebody just shoot me in the head?
Jack: [making a gun gesture with his hands] Bang, bang!
Peter Banning: [abandoning call, shouts] Will everybody just shut up!
Jack: [backing away in fright] I'm sorry.
Peter Banning: And leave me alone for one moment! Moira, get 'em outta here, will you? I'm on the phone call of my life!
Moira Banning: [exits Maggie and Jack] Come on, Jack, come on. Out, out out.

At Jack's contrived baseball game in Neverland:

[holding up a sign reading "Run Home Jack"]
Pirates: Run home, Jack! Run home, Jack!
Jack: "Run home, Jack."
Captain Hook: Smee, no, no, no! They've got it backwards! Tell them to turn it around!
Jack: Maggie?
Smee: Switch!
[the pirates fix the sign to read "Home Run Jack." They read it]
Pirates: Home run, Jack! Home run, Jack! Home run, Jack!

Captain Hook and Smee try to re-educate Jack and Maggie while they hold them captive:

Captain Hook: You, the cute little urchin in the front row, won't you share your thoughts with the whole class?
Maggie: Yes, I said mommy reads to us every night, because she loves us very much.
Captain Hook: Loves you? Isn't that the, uh, the...
Smee: The L word, Captain.
Captain Hook: Ooh, yes. No, child, mother wants to read to you every night in order to stupefy to sleep, so that she and daddy could sit down for three measly minutes without you. And you mindless, inexhaustible, unstoppable, repetitive, and nagging demands: He took my toy! She hit my bear! I want a potty! I want a cookie! I want to stay up! I want, I want, I want, me, me, me, me, mine, mine, mine, mine, now, now, now!
[inhales deeply]

Peter speaking to his wife on the plane:

Peter Banning: [flying to England on a plane in turbulence] I'm not gonna make it to my next birthday.
Moira Banning: You're not gonna die without a phone and fax machine.
Peter Banning: I'm halfway there. I got the phone in my briefcase.
Captain Hook: Can't you understand, child? They tell you stories to shut you up.
Smee: And conk you out.
Maggie: That's not true, Jack!
[to Hook]
Maggie: You're a liar!
Captain Hook: [laughs] Lie? Me? Never.
[inhales deeply again]
Captain Hook: The truth is far too much fun.