Quotes About Vertigo

Some films that I love, I love them also because of the music. 'Vertigo,' for example, is a movie where the music is doing 70 percent of the job.

I have vertigo. Vertigo makes it feel like the floor is pitching up and down. Things seem to be spinning. It's like standing on the deck of a ship in really high seas.

The vertigo is a difficult thing: it just comes and goes whenever it pleases. I wasn't expecting it. I've had it before, and there have been years between stretches, and unfortunately it happened at the U.S. Open, and that knocked me off my feet.

I'm trying to adapt - they say you have to adapt to vertigo.

The work I did in Vertigo meant nothing if no one cared about the movie. Luckily, Vertigo had a revival and people had begun to recognize there was something special and it gained in reputation. But it just as well could have ended up rotting in film cans somewhere.

I have a condition called Menieres disease which is a problem with fluid retention in the inner ear. It has four symptoms: ringing in the ear, pressure in the ear, fluctuating hearing loss, and attacks of vertigo.

Vertigo, it was thought at the time, could only be caused by a disease of the cerebellum. He observed this kind of patient for years and saw absolutely no symptoms of brain disease.

But I have vertigo... I lose my equilibrium easily. I can lean out to look at something and just keep leaning and not realize I'm about to fall.

I'm working on a new creator-owned series for Vertigo called 'The Discipline.'

The first big long-form work I did in comics was 'Scalped' for Vertigo, which ran for 60 issues.

I always loved when James Stewart did roles that were not so dialogue-based, like 'Vertigo.'

Since childhood, I've been a fan of mysteries - 'Nancy Drew' lovers unite! - but 'Vertigo' struck me as an entirely new take on the genre.

I have been battling vertigo for a long time. It's something that I deal with on a daily basis.

Having set its tonal template, Vertigo Crime laid low for a few months before starting in earnest at the beginning of 2010.

Even such an obvious idea as to observe an animal with vertigo or to rotate an animal did not occur to him, in spite of the fact that he conducted numerous vertigo experiments with human subjects and made frequent use of animal experiments.

That's a little homage in a way to that and also to create that sort of creepy atmosphere that Hitchcock did. Vertigo was one of his great movies that was shot right here in The City and it's about a woman and the psychological twists and so forth.

If you read the whole Vertigo 'Animal Man' series of 89 issues or whatever, each writer has a completely different take on his origin. If you try to put them all together, they contradict one another. I had to pick and choose to make up a new origin that makes sense to new readers.

Basically, I really love work that puts the reader into a kind of vertigo, into a real doubt, and a beautiful way to convey that, a really perfect metaphor for that, is to make the reader also experience doubt.

After a couple of years at Vertigo, I realized that if I was going to be a professional artist, I'd have to devote myself to it full time, so I ended up leaving my job there and went freelance.

I will say that Vertigo is an area of great interest to me. It is even less well tapped than other parts of DC, and could potentially offer amazing stories for our future television video game, digital and consumer products businesses.

By way of comment I offer only that an attack of vertigo and nausea does not now seem to me an inappropriate response to the summer of 1968.

I felt a kind of vertigo, as if I were merely plunging from one world to another, and in each I arrived shortly after the end of the world had taken place.

Readers of the book, paradoxically, will have a different kind of surprise in store for them: What many "Vertigo" aficionados will find perplexing are the systematic, businesslike, matter of fact circumstances under which this odd, obsessional, very un-matter-of-fact film was created.

Gamache dug his hands into the bark, feeling the wood pinch his palm, glad for the pain to concentrate on. His horrible fear, and the terrible betrayal, wasn't that he'd trip and fall, or even that the wooden blind would tumble to the ground. It was that he'd throw himself over the edge. That was the horror of vertigo. He felt pulled to the edge and over as if an anchor was attached to his leg. Unaided, unthreatened, he would essentially kill himself.