Frances Stevens: Even in this light, I can tell where your eyes are looking. Look John, hold them--diamonds--the only thing in the... world you can't resist. Then tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. Ever had a better offer in your whole life, one with everything? John Robie: I've never had a crazier one. Frances Stevens: Just as long as you're satisfied. John Robie: You know as well as I do, this necklace is imitation. Frances Stevens: Well, I'm not.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Every time an ashtray is missing from a hotel, they don't come looking for you. But let a diamond bracelet disappear in France and... they shout John Robie, the Cat. You don't have to spend every day of your life proving your honesty, but I do.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Judge Bedford: Planning on having children? David: Naturally.... Judge Bedford: Good, then I know what to get you for a wedding present. David: Yeah? What's that? Judge Bedford: A vasectomy.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
What have Massachusetts and the North sent a few sane representatives to Congress for, of late years?... All their speeches put to...gether and boiled down ... do not match for manly directness and force, and for simple truth, the few casual remarks of crazy John Brown on the floor of the Harper's Ferry engine-house,--that man whom you are about to hang, to send to the other world, though not to represent you there.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Show me a man who feels bitterly toward John Brown, and let me hear what noble verse he can repeat. He'll be as dumb as if his lip...s were stone.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
John Brown's career for the last six weeks of his life was meteor-like, flashing through the darkness in which we live. I know of ...nothing so miraculous in our history.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The life in us is like the water in the river. It may rise this year higher than man has ever known it, and flood the parched upla...nds; even this may be the eventful year, which will drown out all our muskrats. It was not always dry land where we dwell. I see far inland the banks which the stream anciently washed, before science began to record its freshets. Every one has heard the story which has gone the rounds of New England, of a strong and beautiful bug which came out of the dry leaf of an old table of apple-tree wood, which had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first in Connecticut, and afterward in Massachusetts,--from an egg deposited in the living tree many years earlier still, as appeared by counting the annual layers beyond it; which was heard gnawing out for several weeks, hatched perchance by the heat of an urn. Who does not feel his faith in a resurrection and immortality strengthened by hearing of this? Who knows what beautiful and winged life, whose egg has been buried for ages under many concentric layers of woodenness in the dead dry life of society, deposited at first in the alburnum of the green and living tree, which has been gradually converted into the semblance of its well-seasoned tomb,--heard perchance gnawing out now for years by the astonished family of man, as they sat round the festal board,--may unexpectedly come forth from amidst society's most trivial and handselled furniture, to enjoy its perfect summer life at last! I do not say that John or Jonathan will realize all this; but such is the character of that morrow which mere lapse of time can never make to dawn. The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us. Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »