Wanna spot me?" "No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?
I close my eyes. And i scream. If my whole world is crashing down around me, then I am going to make the sound of the crashing. I want to scream until all my bones break.
What sounds good on the radio is really loud kick drums and loud snare drums, when everything's bombastic and in your face. It's the equivalent of a houseguest who screams all the time.
Every time I do a movie, especially an animated movie, I just seem to scream and shout and hyperventilate for money.
A lot of the time, I write a lot of angry stuff, but then I don't want to be a finger-pointer - I'd rather be a cheerleader than a judge. I don't want to preach as if I'm in some position of righteousness, but I do want to speak my mind and scream at the clouds and shout out of the pit of hopelessness that I sometimes think the human race is in.
Pain! Deep, tearing, throbbing, needle-sharp, hammer-blunt pain – ripping through his body and through his mind, twisting deep in his guts and slicing at his skin with razors and broken glass. Oskan wanted to scream, but his vocal cords had burned away. He was desperate for water and he could hear it dripping all around him, but his charred tongue found nothing in his mouth but blisters and scorched flesh. For hours he lay on the ropes of the low bed, unable to move, the pressure of the hemp on his destroyed skin sending new agonies deep into his body.
Actors! The mechanics of cheap melodrama! That isn't death! You scream and choke and sink to your knees but it doesn't bring death home to anyone- it doesn't catch them unawares and start the whisper in their skulls that says- 'One day you are going to die.
What I said yesterday didn't mean anything! I love everyone in the flock! Plus, it was the Valium talking!" "Uh-huh. You just keep telling yourself that. You looove me." Max: (tries to punch him) "Pick a tree. I'll go carve our initials in it." Max: (screams and runs into bathroom)
It's really going to happen. I really won't ever go back to school. Not ever. I'll never be famous or leave anything worthwhile behind. I'll never go to college or have a job. I won't see my brother grow up. I won't travel, never earn money, never drive, never fall in love or leave home or get my own house. It's really, really true. A thought stabs up, growing from my toes and ripping through me, until it stifles everything else and becomes the only thing I'm thinking. It fills me up like a silent scream.
I pity those born of the lighter side. They have no understanding of how seductive cruelty is. The music made out of screams and pleas for mercy. Mmmm. Nothing better. (Noir)
Do you wear a diaphragm everywhere you go?' I want to scream, but stop myself because the idea really excites me.
I remember one time I heard this English professor asking the class what the world's scariest noise is. Is it a man crying out in pain? A woman's scream of terror? A gunshot? A baby crying? And the professor shakes his head and says, 'No, the scariest noise is, you're all alone in your dark house, you know you're all alone, you know that there is no chance anyone else is home or within miles—and then, suddenly, from upstairs, you hear the toilet flush.
Let me out of here, Katra. Now. (Sin) I can't. (Kat) Then I hope you can live with the death of humanity on your conscience. I’ll just sit myself over here until it’s over. You got any good DVDs I can watch? It’ll help drown out the screams for mercy. Especially from the kids. Those are always the hardest to ignore. (Sin)
Just remember, sometimes people will put you ahead of themselves. It does happen. (Leta) Yeah, the whole world is just rainbows and puppies. Boy Scouts really do help old ladies cross the street without mugging them and no one ever ignores a trauma victim’s screams. (Aiden)
Sometimes I think it's better to suffer bitter unhappiness and to fight and to scream out, and even to suffer that terrible pain, than to just be... safe. At least she knows she's living.
Some make you sing and some make you scream. One makes you wish that you'd never been seen. But there's a shop on the corner that's selling papier mache, making bullet-proof faces, Charlie Manson, Cassius Clay. If you want it, boys, get it here, thing.
It was lonely on the hill, and cold. And all you could do was keep going. You could scream, cry, and stamp your feet, but apart from making you feel warmer, it wouldn’t do any good. You could say it was unfair, and that was true, but the universe didn’t care because it didn’t know what “fair” meant. That was the big problem about being a witch. It was up to you. It was always up to you.
Taking one’s chances is like taking a bath, because sometimes you end up feeling comfortable and warm, and sometimes there is something terrible lurking around that you cannot see until it is too late and you can do nothing else but scream and cling to a plastic duck.
Do you not then hear this horrible scream all around you that people usually call silence.
He stood beneath the white tower, and looked up at it with that mournful expression which his face always carried in repose: for one moment he thought of climbing up its cracked and broken stone, and then from its summit screaming down at the silent city as a child might scream at a chained animal.
The haters always scream the loudest.
It's rare to find someone excited over jury duty. If they're out there, I've never met them. Not a one. When the summons for jury duty arrives in the mail, how many people scream, 'Yes!' and run to clear the calendar? None. Our first and only reaction is, 'Oh, no,' quickly followed by, 'How can I get out of this?'
Thank you. It used to be knee length, but then I discovered that when I get angry I like to cut things. I'm not allowed to have scissors any more. It's still pretty lengthy, but I've been threatening to shave half of it for the past week and nobody seems to believe me... I do it all myself though because I scream when I'm touched and that scares people.
I feel a particular sense of responsibility when you're taking something from the magazine directly and putting it in video. You can't be too flat. You need to have personality. You can't just scream out to the viewer. You need to have a fresh take on something or have a new look or have an interesting style, or be so raw that it resonates and is authentic. I think authentic is a good word. It's overused, I know, but I think it comes across in the video medium. If you can make a video authentic, it comes across.
Scream at the mangled leather carcass lying at the foot of the stairs, and my parents would roar with laughter. "That's what you get for leaving your wallet on the kitchen table.
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