Quotes About Penelope

And through the initiation by the three goddesses who were slighted in the beginning by the Judgment of Paris, he is made ready to return home to his wife, Penelope, and rescue her from the suitors.

Odysseus...sleeps sound beside Calypso and when he wakes thinks only of Penelope.

[On Watermelon Man:] ... it is impossible to look at this film without its giving you a share in its insane bad taste, which is rather companionable of it.

Men who neglect philosophy while busying themselves with ordinary affairs are like the Suitors [in the Odyssey] who desired Penelope but went to bed with her maids.

Loyalty, Signor Molteni, not love. Penelope is loyal to Ulysses but we do not know how far she loved him...and as you know people can sometimes be absolutely loyal without loving. In certain cases, in fact, loyalty is form of vengeance, of black-mail, of recovering one's self-respect. Loyalty, not love.

Well, Scarborough cares, doesn't he? Maximus doesn't—not really. No doubt he's a bit compelled by the chase, but if he doesn't win"—she shrugged her shoulders—"he'll simply find another suitable heiress. She—Lady Penelope herself—doesn't really matter to him. And if it comes right down to it, wouldn't you chose passion—however old—over dispassion?

There's a preoccupation with memory and the operation of memory and a rather rapacious interest in history.

To Penelope, men were conquests, attributes, but they were also enemies; they belonged to the species that must never be granted more than the amount of time and attention she considered they deserved.

I'd long thought of her as an unfading Penelope, but that was the lazy eye of infatuation. In truth she'd aged more than the decade elapsed since Alec disappeared. Yet somehow the years revealed her strength. Like a willow she turned all weathers to advantage.

Not for her the cruel, delicate luxury of choice, the indolent, cat-and-mouse pastimes of the hearth-rug. No Penelope she; she must hunt in the forest.

Rabid fans were literally jumping into the camera.

Penelope Fitzgerald's nine novels are thin enough that if you were so inclined, you could take her entire literary output down from the shelf with a single stretched hand. You'd be holding an eclectic bunch.

I got IRS records to finance what I wanted to do.

This young woman, he indicated Miss Wintertowne, she has, I dare say, all the usual accomplishments and virtues? She was graceful? Witty? Vivacious? Capricious? Danced like sunlight? Rode ilk the wind? Sang like an angel? Embroidered like Penelope? Spoke French, Italian, German, Breton, Welsh and many other languages? Mr. Norrell said he supposed so. He believed that those were the sorts of things young ladies did nowadays.

Unrequited love was never easy, but at least Penelope Featherington was used to it.

This was Penelope, and this was love.

Penelope's insides suddenly felt very queer. This was why she shouldn't let whispers from Lady Danbury go to her head. She might manage daring and charm for a fleeting moment, but she had no idea how to follow through.

The only interesting thing to do is read Whistledown,' said the nonblinking lady, as if Penelope had never even spoken. The gentleman next to her murmured his assent. And then Lady Danbury smiled. Colin grew alarmed. The old lady had a look in her eye. A frightening look. 'I have an idea,' she said. Someone gasped. Someone else groaned.

Aristippus said: That those that studied particular sciences, and neglected philosophy, were like Penelope's wooers, that made love to the waiting women.

Goddess, ...do not be angry with me about this. I am quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing else.

My favourite actress is Meryl Streep. Oh, and Anna Magnani.

Grandma shrugged. "Framed. A man that pretty can't be a murderer." Mother stared at her. "Penelope, I'm seventy-two years old. You let me enjoy my fantasy.

Those that study particular sciences, and neglect philosophy, are like Penelope's wooers, that make love to the waiting women.

End production today. Wrap party as usual a little sad. Slow danced with Scarlett. Broke her toe. Not my fault. When she dipped me back, I stepped on it. Penélope and Javier anxious to work with me again. Said if I ever come up with another screenplay to try and find them. Goodbye drink with Rebecca. Sentimental moment. Everyone in cast and crew chipped in and bought me a ballpoint pen.