“It all depends on what you want. You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin—to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours—closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo. Anyway: there is it. We know most of what Gandalf has told you. We know a good deal about the Ring. We are horribly afraid—but we are coming with you; or following you like hounds.”—
Merry Brandybuck (The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring)
I know you can’t include everything in a movie, this is what makes books awesome.
But designing a building in New York City is your lifelong dream.
I do not want to work for GNB again. Those guys are evil. No offense, Marshall.
None taken. Dude, yes, GNB is the Empire from Star Wars, but the Death Star is gonna get built either way, and don't you think the architect of the Death Star is pretty psyched to have that thing on his space resume. I mean, 'yes, his design was flawed, he let fire a single bullet through his particular vent porthole thing.'
For all we know, that was the contractor's fault.
But that won't happen on your watch, 'cause you're Ted Mosby, and you're gonna design the most beautiful, ventless, Rebel-proof building in Manhattan... with clearly-marked emergency stops for every trash compactor on the detention level.
I can remember speaking to a 12-year-old boy, a football player, and I asked him, I said, “How would you feel if, in front of all the players, your coach told you, you were playing like a girl?” Now, I expected him to say something like, “I’d be sad; I’d be mad; I’d be angry,” something like that. No, the boy said to me, the boy said to me, “It would destroy me.”
And I said to myself, “God, if it would destroy him to be called a girl, what are we then teaching him about girls?”
“What’s in here?" he asked, tapping the safe.
“My stepfather’s business papers.”
“Oh! you have seen inside, then?”
“Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of papers.”
“There isn’t a cat in it, for example?”
“No. What a strange idea!”
“Well, look at this!” He took up a small saucer of milk which stood on the top of it.
“No; we don’t keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon.”
“Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I daresay….”—
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - The Adventure of the Speckled Band by Arthur Conan Doyle