There was more to this than Jones had told him.

There was no one but me.

There was a ragged volley.

There was only one place where Jake Carwood's description had gone badly awry: the peace and quiet.

There was brush, and stands of pine that no grass could grow under, and places so steep that cattle wouldn't stop to graze.

There was an artificial lake just out of sight in the first stand of trees, fed by a half dozen springs that popped out of the ground above the hillside orchard.

There was no chance.

There was no moon.

There a dozen giant monitors played their seventy-five-foot jets of water against the huge seam of tertiary gravel which was the mountainside.

There was only one place where the mountain might receive her -- that unnamed, unnameable pool harbored in its secret bosom.

There was a peculiar density about it, a thick substance that could be sensed but never identified, never actually perceived.

There was some idle talk, a listless discussion of this or that small happening during the day's drive.

There was to be no gunplay.

There was a light in Black's front room, but drawn curtains prevented any view of the interior.

There was no lock on the door, only an iron hook which he unfastened.

There was raw fury in his eyes, and the veins of his neck were swollen.

There was a feeling that this mission would be canceled like all the others and that this muddy wet dark world of combat would go on forever.

There was not enough room to make the usual vertical bomb run.

There was, of course, no way for the other planes to get by them.

There was no time to pick out a penny ; ;

There was a blur just under my focus of vision, a crash ; ;

There had been a good second or two during which my muffler had been blowing out, and now I was certain I'd seen her somewhere before.

There was something about the contour of her face, her smile that was like New Orleans sunshine, the way she held her head, the way she walked -- there was scarcely anything she did which did not fascinate me.

There had been no sign of a rifleman and no track or trace to show that anyone had been near.

There were no tracks of either hoofs or boots.

There were no less than six or seven saloons in Ganado, not counting the lower class dives, all vying for the trade of celebrating miners and teamsters.

There was no valley like this on your map.

There was no real sign of the river now, just a roiling, oily ribbon of liquid movement through muddy waters that reached everywhere.

There was no doubt that Herr Schaffner meant every word of what he said.

There was no reply so he shoved it open with his foot and stepped inside.

There is no room for error or waste.

There are almost no fictional treatments of the industrialized south ''.

There is no more `` plot '' than that ; ;

There is no justification for such misrepresentation.

There is no socially existential answer to the question.

There is no selectivity ; ;

There is no necessity, I suppose, to assert that Mr. Faulkner is Southern.

There is another kind of ardor, a quiet, sure devotion to the fundamental decencies of human life, but no angry utopian contentions.

There were no reasons for such suppositions then.

There still remained the need for one great film artist to explore the full potential of the new form and to make it an art.

There, he met director Carlos Marcovich and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, and they made what would be his first short film, Vengeance is mine.

There is a chapter about her in Julie Powell ’ s book Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen and appears as herself in the film adaptation.

* There are also a few scenes in Seasons 1 and 2 as well as The Batman vs Dracula film where Batman / Bruce is being hunted down and then cornered by the GCPD's SWAT Team in an abandoned building.

There was a vast amount of publicity around the film, with a critic for the New York Times calling it " the most eagerly awaited picture of the year ", and it was one of the biggest money-makers of the era.

There have been infrequent scientific and amateur radio expeditions, and in 1978 Jacques-Yves Cousteau visited with his team of divers, plus a survivor from the 1917 evacuation, to film a television special called Clipperton: The Island that Time Forgot.

There is no consensus definition of this film style, and it is often loosely applied to slapstick or romantic comedy films.

There are no sit-down interviews, and the shooting ratio ( the amount of film shot to the finished product ) is very high, often reaching 80 to one.

There are also several newly filmed shots and many new visual effects, and Richard Donner is credited as director of the film instead of Richard Lester.

There were significant changes made in adapting the book for the film.

There are also three theaters used for film and live performances.

There are also many smaller film festivals in the United States, such as the Stony Brook Film Festival in Long Island, New York, the Northwest Filmmakers ' Festival, or the Sicilian Film Festival in Miami, Florida, which do not charge entry fees ; however, acceptance of films is usually more limited, and such film festivals do not necessarily attract big names in their audiences like Sundance and Telluride do.

* National Cinemas: There has been an increasing presence of film festivals celebrating national cinema.

* Interdisciplinary: There are an increasing number of interdisciplinary film festivals crossing film exhibition with content form other cultural and professional spheres.

There was also a black-and-white version of this film available.

There may be several Executive Producers on a film who may take the lead role in a number of areas, such as development, financing or production.

In January 2003, a 95-year old Wray appeared at the 2003 Palm Beach International Film Festival to celebrate the Rick McKay documentary film Broadway: The Golden Age, by the Legends Who Were There, where she was also honored with a " Legend in Film " award.

Her final public appearance was at an after-party at the Sardi's restaurant in New York City, following the premiere of the documentary film Broadway: The Golden Age, by the Legends Who Were There.

“ There would be no enduring conflicts — harmony, no matter how contrived and specious, would ultimately triumph in the last frame ... In true Hollywood fashion, no Capra film would ever suggest that social change was a complex, painful act.

There is only one ending of this film.

There are, interestingly, no major female characters in the movie, making this the only Godzilla film without a female lead.

There was another ending of the film where Biollante dies and the kill sides suddenly exploded into bloom with millions of roses.

There followed Take Me Out to the Ball Game ( 1949 ), his second film with Sinatra, where Kelly paid tribute to his Irish heritage in The Hat My Father Wore on St. Patrick's Day routine.