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“He needed her and she needed him. That was how most disasters began.”
― Ninth House
― Ninth House
“There were always excuses for why girls died”
― Ninth House
― Ninth House
“Sean: Yeah? You got a lady now?
Will: Yeah, I went on a date last week.
Sean: How'd it go?
Will: Fine.
Sean: Well, are you going out again?
Will: I don't know.
Sean: Why not?
Will: Haven't called her.
Sean: Jesus Christ, you are an amateur.
Will: I know what I'm doing. She's different from the other girls I met. We have a really good time. She's smart, beautiful, fun...
Sean: So Christ, call her up.
Will: Why? So I can realize she's not so smart. That she's boring. You don't get it. Right now she's perfect, I don't want to ruin that.
Sean: And right now you're perfect too. Maybe you don't want to ruin that. Well, I think that's a great philosophy Will, that way you can go through your entire life without ever having to really know anybody. My wife used to turn the alarm clock off in her sleep. I was late for work all the time because in the middle of the night she'd roll over and turn the damn thing off. Eventually I got a second clock and put it under my side of the bed, but it got to where she was gettin' to that one too. She was afraid of the dark, so the closet light was on all night. Thing kept me up half the night. Eventually I'd fall asleep, out of sheer exhaustion and not wake up when I was supposed to cause she'd have already gotten to my alarms. My wife's been dead two years, Will. And when I think about her, those are the things I think about most. Little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. Those made her my wife. And she had the goods on me too. Little things I do out of habit. People call these things imperfections Will. It's just who we are. And we get to choose who we're going to let into out weird little worlds. You're not perfect. And let me save you the suspense, this girl you met isn't either. The question is, whether or not you're perfect for each other. You can know everything in the world, but the only way you're findin' that one out is by giving it a shot. You sure won't get the answer from an old fucker like me. And even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you.
Will: Why not? You told me every other fuckin' thing. You talk more than any shrink I ever met.
Sean: I teach this shit, I didn't say I knew how to do it.
Will: You ever think about gettin' remarried?
Sean: My wife's dead.
Will: Hence, the word remarried.
Sean: My wife's dead.
Will: Well I think that's a wonderful philosophy, Sean. That way you can go through the rest of your life without having to really know anyone.
Sean: Time's up.”
― Good Will Hunting
Will: Yeah, I went on a date last week.
Sean: How'd it go?
Will: Fine.
Sean: Well, are you going out again?
Will: I don't know.
Sean: Why not?
Will: Haven't called her.
Sean: Jesus Christ, you are an amateur.
Will: I know what I'm doing. She's different from the other girls I met. We have a really good time. She's smart, beautiful, fun...
Sean: So Christ, call her up.
Will: Why? So I can realize she's not so smart. That she's boring. You don't get it. Right now she's perfect, I don't want to ruin that.
Sean: And right now you're perfect too. Maybe you don't want to ruin that. Well, I think that's a great philosophy Will, that way you can go through your entire life without ever having to really know anybody. My wife used to turn the alarm clock off in her sleep. I was late for work all the time because in the middle of the night she'd roll over and turn the damn thing off. Eventually I got a second clock and put it under my side of the bed, but it got to where she was gettin' to that one too. She was afraid of the dark, so the closet light was on all night. Thing kept me up half the night. Eventually I'd fall asleep, out of sheer exhaustion and not wake up when I was supposed to cause she'd have already gotten to my alarms. My wife's been dead two years, Will. And when I think about her, those are the things I think about most. Little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. Those made her my wife. And she had the goods on me too. Little things I do out of habit. People call these things imperfections Will. It's just who we are. And we get to choose who we're going to let into out weird little worlds. You're not perfect. And let me save you the suspense, this girl you met isn't either. The question is, whether or not you're perfect for each other. You can know everything in the world, but the only way you're findin' that one out is by giving it a shot. You sure won't get the answer from an old fucker like me. And even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you.
Will: Why not? You told me every other fuckin' thing. You talk more than any shrink I ever met.
Sean: I teach this shit, I didn't say I knew how to do it.
Will: You ever think about gettin' remarried?
Sean: My wife's dead.
Will: Hence, the word remarried.
Sean: My wife's dead.
Will: Well I think that's a wonderful philosophy, Sean. That way you can go through the rest of your life without having to really know anyone.
Sean: Time's up.”
― Good Will Hunting
“Nearly everything I know about love, I've learnt from my long-term friendships with women.”
― Everything I Know About Love
― Everything I Know About Love
“The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
Khadija’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Khadija’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
527 books
|
457 friends
419 books
|
154 friends
227 books
|
134 friends
504 books
|
923 friends
260 books
|
1,305 friends
386 books
|
5 friends
262 books
|
243 friends
932 books
|
15 friends
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