He was the closest thing I'd ever had to something, or someone, that mattered. But in the end, close didn't count. You were either in, or you weren't.
I was raised in the '50s. I was taught by my father that how I looked was all that mattered.
People who mattered could not take the humdrum world. But this was not the world, it was enchantment; and all of it was mine.
I wondered which was harder, in the end. The act of telling, or who you told it to. Or maybe if, when you finally got it out, the story was really all that mattered.
It wouldn't have mattered to my mother if I married a black, was gay, lived in a commune or wore a dress.
All that existed was Jace; all she felt, hoped, breathed, wanted, and saw was Jace. Nothing else mattered.
Nothing was solved when the fight was over, but nothing mattered.
Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder--no matter how old you became and how much you'd seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.
Sometimes I wore a fringe so deep it obscured the way ahead. This hardly mattered. There were always others to look where I was going.
Conversation was irrelevant. Only pie mattered.
It wasn't the New World that mattered. . . Columbus died almost without seeing it; and not really knowing what he had discovered. It's life that matters, nothing but life — the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all.
And yet, just for a moment, what almost frightening power had sounded in that cry from only a few hundred throats! Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered?
Gender mattered a whole lot less to Shakespeare than it seems to matter to us.
The universe shrank to Curran and his pain. I had to break him free. Nothing else mattered.
The only thing that mattered was what you were to do in life, and it wasn't about money. It was about teaching, or learning.
We're killers, all of us: We kill our lives, our past selves, the things that mattered. We bury them under slogans and excuses.
The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there. . . and still on your feet.
Nothing else ever mattered to me, and you weren’t even real. All I ever wanted was you.
I think just in general there's a bunch of films that mattered to me that didn't reach their potential, and on some level you have to assume responsibility for that. And I think over the years that gets difficult.
Everything else was in the past, and the past no longer mattered.