Quotes about mime
377 quotes about mime.
If you shoot at mimes, should you use a silencer?
From the Diary of a Mimes
At my grandmothers house, you will see a hundred years of family portraits. We are a family of mimes. The portraits are of mimes.
You may ask why would someone wish to be a mime? For it is a limited existence beings that a mime s a simile of a single frame photograph. Look at the pictures at grandmothers house, do you feel the pain? This is my pain.
Becoming a mime.
I was six or seven years old. Grandmother and I were sitting in her living room, I had slept over at her house for a weekend while mom, dad and little brother tend to other things. Grandmother was in an odd mood today. She looked at her pictures and smiled some. And cried a little." I think its time you wore your mime face." She said. Today you will learn how to become a mime." So I said" Yes madman she proceeded to make up my face.
As she put on my makeup she started to cry. She cried for a long time. I was a little girl I started crying as well. I could not watch my grandmother cry without shedding tears of my own. So we sat and cried.
'Why are we crying' I asked? 'Well dear, sometimes life deals you a hard enough blow that even a mime will cry." I said 'Ok.'I was soon to find out what she meant. This is the day I learned a safe place for a heart to be. I learned that a person could freeze emotions and save them for future use. Yes place them in a jar, to be opened at an appropriate time. For that is what I do. You see I write a sad story, open a jar of tears and cry for a minute.
So after a good cry, grandmother took my hand and led me to the foyer wondered why I had to wear my mime face. Well grandmother had hers on, so I thought it must be a family thing, and I did not question. We sat under the foyer, was hot.New Orleans is a hot place at certain times of the year. There was no breeze, was still as could be. Nothing moved, except perhaps the webs a few lucky spiders, the ones who had prey to close in on.
'God bless mother nature, child. Its infinite wisdom, allows all creatures sustenance 'Uhh grandmother, that is a spider. Kill it, mom does.''No." She says, this is his house. If he were in mine, then I would kill him, but he lives here and kills insects.'
'You say he" I asked." How do you know it is a male spider? " She sighs." I do not know.' So I ask." Then why do you say it is a male? " It is taken for granted that any unknown sex is referred to as he. God is male." I answer" God could be a woman. I do not think anyone knows Gods sex grandmother. The world would be better if God was a female.''Perhaps so child." She answers, " Perhaps so.'
'Your father used to say that when he was your age. Always a philosophy with him." And her eye tiered up again. But I saw her turn to ice of a sudden. The tears dried. Then a long white car pulled up in the driveway, grandmother took my hand and we walked to the car. A man in a grey uniform opened the door and we sat inside. 'I will remember every detail of this day. For this is where my life changed.'
The car drove us to a big fancy building, it was full of mimes dressed in black. Even as a child I realized that something was wrong, so many mimes, all crying and made up in misery faces. I wondered why. They all parted as grandmother and I entered the building.
It was an odd place. Sad sounding music reminded me of harmonies of sorrow, organs and moans and tears. There were 3 pretty boxes in the center of the room. People were all around, most of them mimes, most were crying. 'Grand mother, what is in the boxes? 'I asked." Why do all the mimes look into them and cry? ''Never mind my child. Just be a mime.'
'Well if my daddy was here he would pick me up and I could see what was in the boxes." My grandmother looked down at me and started to cry, and the tears flowed." Brace yourself girl." She said. Then she picked me up. Eagerly I looked over the side of the box. In it was the reason I became a mime. I saw my fathers body made up to be a mime laying with his hands together as if he were praying. My brother and mother the same in other boxes. I knew they had passed away.
It was hard on a little girl, to have it etched into her mind.I kicked and screamed till grandmother set me on my feet. I ran out of the room and never spoke another word until this day.
I do not like this one much.
She Never Told Me She Was A Mime
When we first met she seemed perfectly normal
I never dreamed shed make my life so hard
You see, my baby, she started to change
Started lookin kinda strange
Wearin all that white makeup and those black leotards
Well, I guess she kept her little secret pretty well
Now, ever since I learned the horrible truth, you know my life has been a living hell
Thats right, you see...
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the time
She never told me, she never told me whe was a...
I wish we both could just talk it all over
But my baby wont even make a sound
Now she makes everybody sick
Doin that pantomime shtick
Even our old friends have stopped coming around
Well, mmy parents cant stand her and our neighbors hate her guts
Shes really, really embarrassing me... this silent treatments driving me nuts
[...] Read more
We are mimes tonight
We are mimes tonight
Not minding if we burn alive
Clothes are useless
Enemies of our thoughts
This blanket is a good friend though
But could betray us well if it could
Our chests collide with vigor
Heart beats dangerously
Our bodies are borders
And we are both free
Skin to skin
Hair against hair
Breath crashes breath
We are mimes I say
Erupting with emotions
Explosions in our sky
[...] Read more
Luci In The Sky With Demons
I'll spread me open, stuck to my ribs
Are all your infants in abortion cribs
You run like roaches, and you try to die
I know your poison, in our space we'll lie
To an obscene god we will dance and spit
The skin is thin, in our beds we sit
We take off our rings and we kneel
Our scabbed knees are so slow to heal
Stretch a little boy hole
For looking-glass people
I don't want to be me
I don't want to fear, no
Momma's got a scarecrow
Got to let the corn grow
A man can't always reap what he sows
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine)
Leave yourself to be ultra-here
The chill of fall is always crawling near
Spiders in the flowers
[...] Read more
I think the main thing was that the character couldn't speak in regular language, so he had to be mimed.
Never get a mime talking. He won't stop.
It takes more drawing to tell a story in pantomime.
If you were going to shoot a mime, would you use a silencer?
drama rehearsal started auspiciously.
Leaving behind the Chariot
king appears with his blunt golden sword
and the queen is fanning proudly.
Pantomimist display his perfomance well.
Special invitees are clapping merrily
and a lean poor black fellow is sobbing
who is behind the stage life time.
There's a clip where he had someone miming me running around from keyboard to keyboard. Oh dear, I am sure a lot of people didn't know what he was going on about.
I have designed my style pantomimes as white ink drawings on black backgrounds, so that man's destiny appears as a thread lost in an endless labyrinth.
When I see professional clowns, mimes, or people who makes ballon animals, I think of their relatives and how disappointed they must be.
I worked with a mime coach. I did weapons training. I did weight training.
Will in due time mime an empty wordless semiotic sign.
Hello fighters time out!
Time to take some rest
Time to take a test
Much a do do over
A high stereo low hysteria
History hystrionic merri-go-mad
A psycho path qu’est que c’est
Ein stain of agony in atom bloom
Cries over its own discovery
Mourns its own invention
Hair astray freedom no recovery
A hell paved in with a good intention
A Nike’s victory at dead end sitting
Chair astray duck electric powered
Freedom aside prison devoured
A branch astray progress knitting
Charlie darling take a deep look at
A root cut bottom of a day
We’ll repent schism of all the –isms
Bruised by sharp ends of prisms
[...] Read more
To me, acting is acting... I'd be happy working on a street corner in a mime troupe.
Love Me or Leave Me
Love me or leave me
No more pantomime
Stop your absurdity
Waste not my time
What sculptors do is represent the essence of gesture. What is important in mime is attitude.
The night has dawned
the night has dawned
for a star shining
shining more brightly
than either moon or sun
and you'll be called
in its smile that's miming
a path of a daughter and of a son
you'll step on a grain
silver spelled again
sucked in it fast
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