Scarlett Johansson was wonderful in 'Lost in Translation,' and then, seemingly within a couple of weeks, she became completely Hollywoodised. I was shocked. I didn't recognise her. I hope to God it's just a phase.
For the version of this CD released in Japan, a translation of the English lyrics is included, but there are lots of places where meanings are lost in the process of translation.
All language is but a poor translation.
In Japan, you have no idea what they are saying, and they can't help you either. Nothing makes any sense. They're very polite, but you feel like a joke is being played on you the entire time you're there.
Humor is the first of the gifts to perish in a foreign tongue.
The magic gets lost in translation.
There are some days when no matter what I say it feels like I'm far away in another country & whoever is doing the translating has had far too much to drink.
The medium obscured the message.
My first arrival in India was memorable - landing at Delhi airport at 2 A.M. to start filming 'The Jewel in the Crown' in the Eighties. The man who was supposed to pick me up wasn't there, so I spent a very uncomfortable three hours phoning around hotels to find out where I was supposed to be. It was a major culture shock, but I adored India.
In Spain, attempting to obtain a chicken salad sandwich, you wind up with a dish whose name, when you look it up in your Spanish-English dictionary, turns out to mean: Eel with big abcess.
What's so funny 'bout peace, love, and world destruction?
I had a meal last night. I ordered everything in French, surprised everybody. It was a Chinese restaurant. I said to this Chinese waiter, 'Look, this chicken I got here is cold.' He said, 'It should be, it's been dead two weeks.'
As an artist, you make music. And if you see people who don't know how to market your music, you get involved in it. Otherwise, what you want to accomplish 'gets lost in translation' - no pun intended.
Dejardins was so stunned, he momentarily forgot how to speak English. "Ce n'est pas possible. On ne pourrait pas-
Sarcasm is lost in print.
Translations increase the faults of a work and spoil its beauties.
So much gets lost in the translation. Even if you sat there listening to it with a microscope, there's no way you're gonna find out what it means.
We were like deaf people trying to dance to a beat we couldn't hear, long after the music actually stopped.
Something may have been lost in translation, but it certainly wasn't love
The best translations cannot convey to us the strength and exquisite delicacy of thought in its native garb, and he to whom such books are shut flounders about in outer darkness.
We are talking. It's a shame. What is said is murdered. Our words that will not grow any bigger or any lovelier will wilt inside our bones. Words wither feelings.
It is not that the meaning cannot be explained. But there are certain meanings that are lost forever the moment they are explained in words.
We're not lost. We're locationally challenged.
Lately, I feel like my life is a book written in a language I don't know how to read.
I am a candid interview and I have a dark and dry sense of humor - a very Canadian sense of humor and I am only learning now stupidly that you can't read tongue. When I say something funny in a newspaper and I meant it to be funny, it doesn't read that way.
