|The Sandman Library||
OLD MAN: Perhaps a city is aliving thing. Each city has its own personality, after all. Los Angeles is not Vienna. London is not Moscos. Chicago is not Paris. Each city is a collection of lives and buildings and it has its own personality.
So, if a city has a personality, maybe it also has a soul. Maybe it dreams.
CANBY: Steam ships. That's the future. Who wants to be forced to ride with the wind?
JIM: I do. I've been on a steam ship and I didn't like it one little bit. They're rust-buckets. Mr. Canby, the lot of them. All that smoke. And what's the point of being a sailor, if you're living high above the ocean, instead of cool and comfortable below decks, cooled by the water, listening to the sea going by?
CANBY: You're a romantic.
JIM: Why be a sailor, if you're not?
HOB GADLING: Women aren't unfaithful. It's people are unfaithful. And men tend to get a lot more opportunity than women to mess about.
MAN: You are from where?
MAN: Seattle, Washington? In America? The United States of America?
BRANT: Uh, sure. Of course. I mean, how many Americas are there?
MAN: Many. Many-many-many. But perhaps less than there used to be. I am honored to make your acquaintance. The America you come from. Who was president when you left?
BRANT: I didn't leave. Or maybe... well. Clinton. Bill Clinton.
MAN: And before him?
BRANT: George Bush.
MAN: Ah. And before Bush, Reagan, and before him... who?
BRANT: Jimmy Carter.
MAN: Ah, you come from one of those Americas. You have my sympathy.
PRESIDENT: Now, I'm going to tell you a few things now, make it easy for you in the future. Okay: Nothing you do in the White House matters. You know why not? Because as far as the mass of voting morons is concerned, while you're in office, you'll be the worst single president they've ever had until you stop. Then it's some other poor bastards's turn.
And even that doesn't matter, because then, twenty years later, they'll look back on you, and wonder why they didn't appreciate you when they had you. In hindsight even Warren Gamaliel Harding looks good. You, uh, following me?
PREZ RICKARD: I want to make a difference, Sir.
PRESIDENT: You don't get to make a difference. You don't get to do jack shit. You know what you get?
PREZ RICKARD: Sir?
PRESIDENT: You get an entry in the history book, and every 15 minutes, every day at Disneyworld, an animatronic puppet wearing your face will wave or nod -- when the spotllight hits it. So take it for what you can get, kid, and milk it for all it's worth. It's your moment in the spotlight.
The Golden Boy
PREZ RICKARD: In the White House is a tiger skin rug shot and killed many years ago by Teddy Roosevelt. The feet of the great walk over that tiger skin each day. It listens to policy being formed, and secrets being spoken. Now do you think that tiger would rather be dead and in the seat of power, or alive, and walking the jungle of India, sniffing the wind for the scent of game?
The Golden Boy
I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn't that dumb? But it was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you. I wanted to go with her. I wanted her to notice me.
And then she stopped walking. Under the moon, she stopped. And she looked at us. She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know. She probably didn't even know I was there. But I'll always love her. All my life.