Quotes About Basement

I bought the VHS of 'Into the Woods' at the Suncoast in the Park City Mall and watched it in the basement when I got home. And when it was over, I rewound it and immediately watched it again.

Because adults forgot how porous that border was, the ease with which you could summon monsters and find treasure in any basement. Besides, adults talked to themselves. Was that any more rational?

If any "white supremacist" were really a "supremacist", he wouldn't be living in his mom's basement.

Mulder' she said gently. 'They don't want you involved. They don't want to hear your theories. That's why Section Chief Blevins has you hidden away down here in the basement.' Mulder didn't seem at all hurt by this. 'You're down here too,' he pointed out cheerfully. Scully slumped in her chair... Couldn't he ever take no for an answer?

Puffs of dust-scented air wafted around my ankles. The narrow wooden steps disappeared into yawning darkness, and even when I turned on the light, it wasn't particularly inviting. I hate basements—spiders and water bugs and the possibility of creepy, supernatural things lurking.

I don't decide where I live. My wife decides. She's a curator of contemporary art, and she works at an art museum, so we go wherever she has a job. All basements look the same, so I can write from whatever basement I happen to be living in.

I decided to build a studio in my house. We built it in my basement kitchen. I had the drummer up by the fish tank. I was in the toilet singing. The bass player was out by the shelves in the living room, and the guitarist was on the couch by the telly.

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.

I'm asking you, I'm begging you, could you please shut your mouth for just five minutes? You can imagine the reaction. They ended up in the basement.

As it turned out, Ilsa Hermann not only gave Liesel Meminger a book that day. She also gave her a reason to spend time in the basement, her favorite place, first with Papa, then Max. She gave her a reason to write her own words, to see that words had also brought her to life. Don't punish yourself, she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness, too. That was writing.

He walked from one end of the basement to the other, the lamplight magnifying his shadow. It turned him into a giant on the wall, walking back and forth. When he stopped pacing, his shadow loomed behind him, watching. Someone was always watching.

Under the ground, in Munich, Germany, two people stood and spoke in a basement. It sounds like the beginning of a joke: 'There's a Jew and a German standing in a basement, right?...' This, however, was no joke.

A veces, en el sótano, se levantaba con el regusto del acordeón en sus oídos y saboreaba el resquemor dulzón del champán en la lengua.

concerned. Forget the cold and the loneliness. He was a Jew and if there was one place he was destined to exist, it was a basement or any other such hidden venue of survival.

Now I lack your extensive erudition," said Guleed once we were out of sight of the basement, "but that struck me as being just a little bit Lord of the Rings." "Nah," I said. "She didn't call it her precious—it doesn't count if you don't call it your precious.

Last year, I made a refrigerator in my basement. And I needed to because I needed to figure how - you know there is no such thing as 'cold.' There is only less heat.

There's a crunch as the corrugated cardboard display is crushed between my weight and the wrought-iron rail. Model pieces and papers sail out of the open box and all the way down to the basement. Horrified, I drop to the stair in a desperate attempt to keep my hard work from disappearing forever. It's too late. The box is broken, the papers still fluttering.

was a magnificent structure for its time and place—a sanitarium of three stories, plus a basement. Dormer windows jutted over a porch that ran the full length; a dark, oak staircase in the grand foyer dominated the interior. There was even a kitchen, an office, and of course, the Treatment Room.

I wanted to find raw talent and help build it from scratch. I wanted to build from rags to riches. That's the way Ear Drummers did it. We took over the music industry from my mom's basement. That's why my first album is going to be called 'Made It Out the Basement.'

I bought an audio technician mic and Pro Tools SE, the demo version and was recording in the basement.

Memory: a golden bowl, or a basement without light. For which reason the nightmare comes with its painful story and says: you need to know this. Some memories I would give anything to forget. Others I would not give up upon the point of death, they are the bright hawks of my life.

I might be in the basement. I'll go upstairs and check. We adore chaos because we love to produce order. I don't use drugs; my dreams are frightening enough.

Victor, back there in that basement, when the zombies were… were… moving around on those tables…. Twitching? And dead? You didn't even blink. This is nothing like those zombies. No shit. Because this time, you're scared—beyond scared. You're terrified. And whatever's got you scared? I don't want any part of it.

I put them near the cellar door in case you want to store them down there." "Yeah. I, uh... I'm not big on going down into this basement." "But you said this place only had one ghost in it, and she left." I had. But I never claimed that ,y loathing of basements was entirely rational. "I had a bizarre fabric softener incident once," I told her. "It scarred me for life.