The Movie: Bride of Frankenstein, 1935 (William Hurlbut, screenwriter; James Whale, dir.)
Who says it: Boris Karloff as The Monster
The context: Hunted and injured, The Monster comes across a mountain cottage inhabited by a blind hermit (O.P. Heggie), who befriends him and teaches him to speak. The scene where the blind man thanks God for sending him a friend makes me cry every time.
How to use it: The perfect wedding toast. As many weddings as I’ve been to, no one’s ever used it. Go figure.
One of the things I'll miss about Los Angeles is being within walking distance of at least two dozen movie screens, and within an easy bike ride of at least two dozen more. If memory serves, the Megaplex in Hallowell has four screens... my friend Anna and I saw "Wes Craven's New Nightmare" there.
But I'm counting on Central Maine's not having many of Los Angeles' most distinctive features, including nightly police helicopter chases, SigAlerts, clip-n-save Botox coupons, and angry Russian hookers. Someone did tell me that Gardiner was the center of the Maine phone sex industry, but I have to believe that's quiet. Quiet -- good.