A Quote by Allen Covert

I love jokes that come out of nowhere. The ones where people look at the screen and go, What the Hell was that. As long as it somehow ties back into the story, somehow. — © Allen Covert
I love jokes that come out of nowhere. The ones where people look at the screen and go, What the Hell was that. As long as it somehow ties back into the story, somehow.
I love jokes that come out of nowhere. The ones where people look at the screen and go, 'What the Hell was that.' As long as it somehow ties back into the story, somehow.
I would like to think I've reflected the audience's lives somehow, though it's in this big, false, glamorous arena of movies. I hope people see themselves somehow up on the screen.
Writing with a partner is, in some ways, an easy but odd process. Two people come into a room and look to each other for motivation. One might not be in the right mood at any given moment. And somehow, you begin; somehow, out of your exchange of thoughts, something engages both of you, and the process of collaboration begins.
I love 'Talking Smack.' It is so much fun. We just literally go out there and say whatever we want. Somehow, it's never planned, but somehow I end up bickering with Daniel Bryan every single time.
I hope that one day I will gain power somehow, and somehow convince myself that there is still hope and go back and fight, people who's trying to make that place worth living for both Jews and Palestinians.
The problem with being a film actress or a movie star is that people see you so huge that somehow you're visually massive or somehow you're in some removed space, which is a television or wherever. It somehow takes your humanity.
I think sometimes we look at other people's marriages and we think they must always be so happy together. I don't know anybody who's married for a long time who hasn't somehow made room in their love story for the hate and resentment that they sometimes feel toward each other.
I think, most of us, when we look back over our lives, see perhaps moments when everything was dangerous and precarious. We're making all these mistakes, and yet somehow we make it through. It's the making it through that that interests me. To go through the valley of trouble and come out the other side. That's what we all have to do.
I told my kids when they were little, 'Look, kids, your mother and I are screwing you up somehow. We don't understand how, or we wouldn't do it. But we're parents. So somehow we're damaging you, and I want you to know that early. So just ignore me when I go to that part of my parenting.'
People like my fashion sense a lot, but somehow, I never got a chance to wear stuff that I love on screen.
When I think of a story, somehow it just always seems to come out involving spooks and spies and government skullduggery.
I love to see lack of clarity in a performance as well as clarity, as well as trust, as well as the kinds of things that human beings go through. I love to see spontaneity and 'inevitability.' How it gets there is going to shock the hell out of me, but it will get there somehow.
I never went to church. The priests couldn't scare me with all that crap about hell, but somehow I knew, inside of me somehow, I knew that I'd pay for it.
In this sleepless night, as the darkness advances, look up at the sky and somehow remember that somewhere in this wide world, there are always people who love you, and people who need you. Because every person can't go on living alone.
There's a particularly British wariness of appearing to try too hard. It's somehow distasteful. Everything should come to us seamlessly and, if you have to work at it, you're somehow a loser.
Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound. Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeapordy. Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.
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