When you make your first film, there is a hell of a lot to think about, and you’ve got to have a gut understanding of your material.
You play these teams that run all these elaborate fronts and blitzes. You've got to know each play against six different looks. So you can't go into a game with so many plays that you don't know everything cold. It's not a matter of trying to trick them. It's a matter of recognizing where they are and doing your job.
Don't be discouraged if people don't see your vision, your harvest. All they see from their perspective is that you're watering a whole lot of dirt. They don't SEE what seeds you've been planting with blood, sweat, tears and lack of sleep. Make sure you don't abandon or neglect it because "they" don't see it. You have to KNOW and believe for yourself. They don't see the roots and what's budding under the dirt. But it's okay, because it's NOT meant for them to see it. While you wait, MASTER it. You continue to do YOUR work and have unwavering faith! Remember why you started planting in the first place. Your harvest WILL come!
You see," said Colon, "thieves are organized here. I mean, it's official. They're allowed a certain amount of thieving. Not that they do much these days, mind you. If you pay them a little premium every year they give you a card and leave you alone. Saves time and effort all around.""And all thieves are members?" said Angua."Oh, yes," said Carrot. "Can't go thieving in Ankh-Morpork without a Guild permit. Not unless you've got a special talent.""Why? What happens? What talent?" she said."Well, being able to survive being hung upside down from one of the gates with your ears nailed to your knees," said Carrot.
Dizzee's just my childhood hero. He's definitely the inspiration. He's got himself to a very good place. He's defied the expectations of what British black urban music was like. He was the first person who made the rest of Britain realise it wasn't just a one-album-type situation. You've got to take your hat off to somebody like that.
Oh, good grief," said Vimes. "Look, it's quite simple, man. I was expected to go "At last, alcohol!", and chugalug the lot without thinking. Then some respectable pillars of the community" - he removed the cigar from his mouth and spat - "were going to find me, in your presence, too - which was a nice touch - with the evidence of my crime neatly hidden but not so well hidden that they couldn't find it." He shook his head sadly. "The trouble is, you know, that once the taste's got you it never lets go.""But you've been very good, sir," said Carrot. "I've not seen you touch a drop for -""Oh, that," said Vimes. "I was talking about policing, not alcohol. There's lots of people will help you with the alcohol business, but there's no one out there arranging little meetings where you can stand up and say, "My name is Sam and I'm a really suspicious bastard.
All right, shadow-priest, you've been spying — on what? What state secrets have you learned watching me groom these horses?''Only that they hate you, Daru. Every time your back was turned, they got ready to nip you — only you always seemed to step away at precisely the right moment-''Yes, I did, since I knew what they were intending. Each time.''Is this pride I hear? That you outwitted two horses?
You know what?' said Vimes aloud. 'This is going to be the world's first democratically killed dragon. One man, one stab.'Then you've got to stop them. You can't let them kill it!' said Lady Ramkin.Vimes blinked at her.Pardon?' he said.It's wounded!'Lady, that was the intention, wasn't it? Anyway, it's only stunned,' said Vimes.I mean you can't let them kill it like this,' said Lady Ramkin insistently. 'Poor thing!'What do you want to do, then?' demanded Vimes, his temper unravelling. 'Give it a strengthening dose of tar oil and a nice comfy basket in front of the stove?'It's butchery!'Suits me fine!'But it's a dragon! It's just doing what a dragon does! It never would have come here if people had left it alone!'Vimes thought: it was about to eat her, and she can still think like this. He hesitated. Perhaps that did give you the right to an opinion...
When i remember your namei know you are my hope.for what ?not for love...'cause i know you can't love me.but i know you are my hope for... Life.Just remembering your smile...i know you are my worldyou shaping my world that became like this...you are my storyNot to be told, But to remember...i love youand... I miss you nowi miss my worldi miss your face, your smile and your voiceI miss you more than anyone that I've ever met-For Enno Indi WP-
Your film is like your children. You might want a child with certain qualities, but you are never going to get the exact specification right. The film has a privilege to live its own life and develop its own character. To suppress this is dangerous. It is an approach that works the other way too: sometimes the footage has amazing qualities that you did not expect
The public are a lot of jackasses. If you yell and scream and throw yourself about you'll always get a lot of damned fools to shout themselves silly. Just barnstorming, that's what you've been doing the last four nights. It was false from beginning to end.""False? But I felt every word of it.""I don't care what you felt, you weren't acting it. Your performance was a mess. You were exaggerating; you were over-acting; you didn't carry conviction for a moment. It was about as rotten a piece of ham acting as I've ever seen in my life.
You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you're wrong."He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin. "My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe.His dark eyes lifting to mine, he adds, "But I resist it." "Why..." I swallow hard. "Why is that your first instinct?""Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating." He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just want to see it again. Want to see you awake.