Tom Fury Some folks draw lightning to 'em as a cat sucks in a baby's breath.
Charles Halloway
Jason Robards · 10 quotes
Mr. Dark
Jonathan Pryce · 4 quotes
Narrator
Arthur Hill · 2 quotes
Something Wicked This Way Comes quotes
Page 1 of 2 Tom Fury A father should be able to play baseball with his son.
Mrs. Halloway
Baseball's not necessary, not with a heart like yours, he'll forgive you that.
I, uh, have the honor, sir.
And have had for many years, I do believe. All that time spent living only through other men's lives. Dreaming only other men's dreams. What a waste.
Sometimes a man can learn more from other men's dreams than he can from his own. Come visit me, sir, if you wish to improve your education.
I will, and I may improve yours.
Will Halloway
If you're a good person, then demons can't harm you, can they? Am I? Am I a good person?
Well, I wouldn't count on your mother's answer right now, but I think you are.
[Clenching his fists until his hands bleed]
I do want to know the truth, sir. The truth is, you are lying!
[quoting Shakespeare's Macbeth]
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.
[to Charles Holloway]
Your torments call us like dogs in the night. And we do feed, and feed well. To stuff ourselves on other people's torments. And butter our plain bread with delicious pain... "Funerals, marriages, lost loves, lonely beds" that is our diet. We suck that misery and find it sweet. We can smell the young ulcerating to be men a thousand miles off. And hear a middle-aged fool like yourself groaning with midnight despairs from halfway round the world.
[to Mrs. Nightshade]
For God's sake, go home! The man meeting you here isn't your husband!
[to Will, who is crying]
Tears, that's what they like! My God, how they like tears! Look, that's no way to save young Jim, Jump around, eh? Whoop and holler, Come on, look at me, eh? Look at me. I'm the great whooping crane. Whoop, whoop, whoop.
First of all, it was October, a rare month of boys; full of cold winds, long nights, dark promises. Days get short. The shadows lengthen. The wind warms in such a way, you want to run forever through the fields, because up ahead, ten thousand pumpkins lie waiting to be cut. It was the October of my 12th year when the seller of lightning rods came along the road toward Green Town, Illinois, sneaking glances over his shoulder. Somewhere not far back was a terrible storm. Even now, on those special autumn days, when the air smells like smoke, and the twilights are orange and ash gray, my mind goes back to Green Town, the place where I grew up. In my memory, I'm back on Main Street again, among the neighbors who gave me my first glimpses into the fearful needs of the human heart.
For my father, being old was all right now. He had freed himself from the shadows, and liberated our town. So, I think he knew on that bright morning, that he'd made a memory that would live as long as sons tell sons about fathers they love.
Then rang the bells both loud and deep. God is not dead nor doth he sleep.