People don't start playing ball at your age, they retire!

Pop Fisher

The only thing I know about the dark is you can't see in it.

Roy Hobbs

Bartholomew 'Bump' Bailey: I lost it in the sun.
Pop Fisher: [looks up at cloudy sky] Blinding.

Pop Fisher: Come on, Fowler! Throw strikes!
Red Blow: Fowler's killing worms, Pop.

Pop Fisher: My ma urged me to get out of this game. When I was a kid, she pleaded with me. And I meant to, you know what I mean? But she died.
Red Blow: Tough.
Pop Fisher: Now look at me. I'm wet nurse to a last-place, dead-to-the-neck-up ball club, and I'm choking to death!

Red Blow: Pretty good food, huh?
Roy Hobbs: Damn good.
Red Blow: You can't spell it, but it eats pretty good, don't it?

[distressed] Michael! Where are your socks?

Sylvia Llewelyn Davies

Mrs. Emma du Maurier: Go upstairs George, now!
George Llewelyn Davies: Quit ordering me about! This isn't your home, it's *our* home! Just because Mother's needed your help recently doesn't give you the right to lord over her existence. She isn't a child anymore, and neither am I. If she wants to see uncle Jim she can see uncle Jim. There's nothing you can do about it!

You find a glimmer of happiness in this world, there's always someone who wants to destroy it.

J.M. Barrie

J.M. Barrie: Write about your family, Write about the talking Whale.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: What Whale?
J.M. Barrie: The one that is trapped in your imagination, desperate to get out.

J.M. Barrie: Listen, what would you think of loaning Emma out to the Davies' for the occasional evening? They don't actually have a cook.
Mary Ansell Barrie: I take it Mrs. Davies enjoyed the meal she had here?
J.M. Barrie: I imagine she could use an extra hand now and again, that's all.
Mary Ansell Barrie: Oh, that's very charitable of you. Perhaps we can send over some of the silver as well... and what about linen? I wouldn't be surprised if some of hers was looking a bit shabby.
J.M. Barrie: Please, Mary, stop.
Mary Ansell Barrie: Maybe she can send over some of the things we've run short on. My husband, for example. We rarely see him in this house.
J.M. Barrie: That hasn't seemed to bother you for some time now

J.M. Barrie: You needn't steal my journal to get to know me, Mary.
Mary Ansell Barrie: No. I suppose I could just go see the plays.

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