Very often, as I wander through life, I'll get that old feeling that I've come back from the future, and I'm living in the past. And it's a really horrible feeling.
The wild thing is that when I'm in the band, I can control my destiny with four other guys. As a composer sitting in the audience, you can throw good vibes at everybody, but you can't control anybody's destiny, so it's really unsettling.
A sense of wrongness, of fraught unease, as if long nails scraped the surface of the moon, raising the hackles of the soul.
I guess the biggest thing I had to get used to was people staring. At first it was like, 'Am I wearing something odd? Is there something on my face?' It was kind of weird because when I go to the grocery store, people, they're not necessarily coming up to me asking for a photo, they just... look at me.
Something like fear chilled me as I sat there in the small hours alone-I say alone, for one who sits by a sleeper is indeed alone; perhaps more alone than he can realise.
Black frost. The ground is hard, the air tastes bitter. Your stars cluster in evil signs.
Suspense left my life a long time ago, now it has returned. I do not care for it.
Only one thing bothered me: at this very moment, as they say, of inexplicable bliss there would be a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach and my abdomen would be assailed by a melancholy, cold shivering. In the end I couldn't abide such happiness and ran away.
I walked out of 'Harry and the Hendersons.' Harry bugged me; I don't know. Yeah, it's weird because I think Sasquatches are great, but not then. Maybe not that weekend - I don't know. I don't know what it was.
The whole trial seemed surreal.
Generally, I wake up, honestly it's creepy, but I wake up around 4:20.
Deja vu is one of the weirdest things that happens to me. It boggles my mind.
I tried to make every bit of it as creepy as I could. And I had the same response you do. I feel the same way. The hospital scenes, that procedure was so real.
I have known uncertainty: a state unknown to the Greeks.
We frame things in an off-kilter way because it's unsettling. In the 'Mr. Robot' world, that's the norm, and it's the norm for the point of view that we're looking for, which is Elliot's. With our compositions and our visual language and camera movements, it's important to always evoke that unsettling feeling underneath every scene.
Bones,” I sighed. “Know something? I’m not afraid of you, but you scare me….” His outline blurred again. “You scare me, too, Kitten,” he might have replied, but I couldn’t be sure.
There's something very surreal about driving a truck, looking in the rearview mirror, and seeing 20 cop cars behind you. Even though you know, 'We're just shooting. This is just a scene; we're making a movie here,' it's very unsettling.
I don't know what my mother was thinking, but she entered me in a Little Miss contest - Little Miss Orange Blossom, I think it was. And I don't remember anything about that, except I have one flash-bulb memory of standing on the stage and thinking, 'This is not where I should be.'
She haunted him, as an ungenerous action haunts one.
I was an electrician, and now I'm in 'Electric Dreams.' It's almost bizarre.
I can't sleep the first night in a hotel room.
Often, when the last page is turned, it will haunt you.
It puts you in a kind of a strange situation where everybody is looking at every little thing you do.
The earliest sensation at the onset of illness, often preceding the recognition of identifiable symptoms, is apprehension. Something has gone wrong, and a glimpse of mortality shifts somewhere deep in the mind. It is the most ancient of our fears.
I would have a flick of fear, as in a dream when you find yourself in the wrong building or have forgotten the time for the exam and understand that this is only the tip of some shadowy cataclysm or lifelong mistake.
