Barry Jenkins Quotes

The best thing we can do is to make wherever we're lost in look as much like home as we can.

I love traveling and touring, but I have to bring the little things that make me feel at home.

I never really felt apprehensive because of my voice because after a while I'd gotten used to it, so I figured it would only be a matter of time before everybody else got used to it.

I was in the beginning when [comic book superheroes] started, but not anymore. Now I expect it. I've gotten very used to it.

That which is the wonder of one age is the commonplace of the next.

Just as, with the radio, there are certain things that you become fond of,and you welcome them and resent the new things

Truly, one gets easier accustomed to a silken bed than to a sack of leaves.

Most of us prefer to walk backward into the future, a posture that may be uncomfortable but which at least allows us to keep on looking at familiar things as long as we can.

The secret of the Great Stories is that they have no secrets. The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably... in the Great Stories you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, who doesn't. And yet you want to know again.

It is of no account; after all, the old bird does not fly far from his nest.

A miracle constantly repeated becomes a process of nature.

I still love to go back to Mitchell [his home town] and wander up and down those streets. It just kind of reassures me again that there is a place that I know thoroughly, where the roots are deep. Everything had a place, a specific definition.

We are comfortable in this environment. Why not make ourselves comfortable over there?.

The local shepherd, I vividly remember his old Barbour jacket, with a hipflask in the pocket. It just feels very familiar - like part of my childhood. The smell of the wax. Whenever I put one on now, it just feels comforting.

Habit! that skilful but slow-moving arranger who begins by letting our minds suffer for weeks on end in temporary quarters, but whom our minds are none the less only too happy to discover at last, for without it, reduced to their own devices, they would be powerless to make any room seem habitable.

Ah, the old questions, the old answers, there's nothing like them!

Nothing is wonderful when you get used to it.

Habit! that skillful but slow arranger, which starts out by letting our spirit suffer for weeks in a temporary state, but that thespirit is after all happy to discover, for without habit and reduced to its own resources, the spirit would be unable to make any lodgings seem habitable.

I like to read things I've read before. It's like listening over and over to your favorite song.

Now the freaks are on television, the freaks are in the movies. And it's no longer the sideshow, it's the whole show. The colorful circus and the clowns and the elephants, for all intents and purposes, are gone, and we're dealing only with the freaks.

We human beings have a remarkable way of growing accustomed to things.

Repeat reading for me shares a few things with hot-water bottles and thumbsucking: comfort, familiarity, the recurrence of the expected.

To an old man any place that's warm is homeland.

Long habit so reconciles us to almost any thing, that the grossest improprieties cease to strike us when they once make a part of the common course of action.

I have a very primitive sense that if I just turn on a radio or the television, that somebody's playing that stuff for me.