Northern Exposure (TV Series 1990–1995) Poster

(1990–1995)

John Corbett: Chris Stevens, Kit

Photos 

Quotes 

  • Chris Stevens : There's a dark side to each and every human soul. We wish we were Obi-Wan Kenobi, and for the most part we are, but there's a little Darth Vader in all of us. Thing is, this ain't no either-or proposition. We're talking about dialectics, the good and the bad merging into us. You can run but you can't hide. My experience? Face the darkness. Stare it down. Own it. As brother Nietzsche said, being human is a complicated gig. So give that ol' dark night of the soul a hug. Howl the eternal yes!

  • [Chris muses and reads from "The Tempest", Act IV] 

    Chris Stevens : In dreams begin responsibilities, so wrote the poet. So it is perhaps. Could it be we take our dreams too lightly, those images from places unknown? Could they in fact be angels in flight, our souls aloft? You know, recent experiences have made yours truly take another pass through the metaphysical thickets. As unlikely as it may sound in this rational age, I emerged on the side of those that cannot help but put their faith in that which cannot be easily explained. Be open to your dreams people. Embrace that distant shore. Cause our mortal journey is over all too soon. "Those cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples. The great globe itself. Yea all which you inherit shall dissolve and like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with asleep."

  • Chris Stevens : Be open to your dreams, people. Embrace that distant shore. Because our mortal journey is over all too soon.

  • Chris Stevens : Rain usually makes me feel mellow: curl up in a corner time, slow down, smell the furniture. Today... it just makes me feel wet. What is it about owning things? Why do we feel the need to own what we love, and why do we become such jerks when we do? We've all been there, you know: we want something; we own it; and by owning it we change it. When you finally win that girl of your dreams, the first thing you do is try to change her. That little thing she does with her hair, the way she wears her clothes, the way she chews her gum. Until eventually, what you like, what you don't like and what you change all merges into one. Like a watercolor in the rain.

  • Chris Stevens : Greetings, Cicely, on this most exceedingly beautiful spring morning. A morning swollen with new life, a morning on which, if I had the voice, I would let loose with song. It's hard to believe just a few short weeks ago we were eating our cornflakes in the wintry dark. Now, well it's still kind of dim our there, but I can see the golden glow of Apollo's chariot waiting in the wings, about to make its entrance. Winter's on the lam, no doubt.

  • Chris Stevens : It's not the thing you fling, it's the fling itself.

  • Chris Stevens : Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

  • Chris Stevens : Season's Greetings, everybody, from KBHR, the heart and soul of Cicely, Alaska. This is Chris In The Morning. From where I'm sitting, I've got a great view of all the yuletide decorations going up all over town. That's right, everywhere I turn my head I see ebony birds roosting for the holidays. You know, twinkling colored lights are nice, and so are plastic Santas and reindeers and manger scenes, but I'll tell you something, friends... nothing like the sight of beautiful black-as-pitch raven to get you in the Christmas spirit.

  • Maurice Minnifield : I understand the suicide rate goes up dramatically around Christmastime.

    Chris Stevens : Yeah, well, you know, it's a stressful time of the year for most people, Maurice.

    Maurice Minnifield : Yeah. The thing is, you go through the rest of the year fine. You've got your friends, you've got your business, you're part of the community. And then, 'round the middle of December, if you're alone, you start to feel like an outsider.

  • Chris Stevens : We all carry around so much pain in our hearts. Love and pain and beauty. They all seem to go together like one little tidy confusing package. It's a messy business, life. It's hard to figure - full of surprises. Some good. Some bad.

  • Chris Stevens : People notice things about their significant other they don't like all the time - the way they chew their food or clip their toenails - it's a necessary part of a real relationship. Personally, I'm not into that, but lot's of folks seem to get over the hump and keep fueling the domestic fires. On the other hand, for me, when I begin to see flaws, chinks in the romantic armor, it's a foreshadowing - a sure sign, you know, that love's about to skip out the back door. Adios. Finito, benito.

  • Chris Stevens : I can see how that can be a problem. You know, it's like Jung says, "The unconscious is revealed through the imagery of our dreams, which express our innermost fears and our desires."

    Bernard Stevens : Jung said that?

    Chris Stevens : Yeah, I think it was Jung. Or maybe Vincent Price.

  • Chris Stevens : I'm the teflon kid. Dozens of chicks, nothing sticks.

  • Chris Stevens : Today, a belated apology to the much maligned Chicken Little. It turns out you were right - the sky is falling. The National Space Administration informs us that Uncle Sam's Com-Sat 4 satellite is in a rapidly decaying orbit. That's their way of saying a ton of angry space trash is heading back home at fifteen thousand miles an hour. What does that make me think of? Makes me think of a triceratops, innocently munching a palm frond when out of the sky, whammo, a meteor sucker punches old mother Earth. Next thing you know, that triceratops, along with a hundred and seventy-five million years of dinosaur evolution, is nothing but history. To that unsung triceratops and all its kin, here's a song for you...

  • Chris Stevens : They say dreams are the windows of the soul - take a peek and you can see the inner workings, the nuts and bolts.

  • Chris Stevens : You know what they say - life throws you a gutter ball, you got to slap on the old rosin bag and step up to the line.

  • Chris Stevens : Joel, the concept of random death in an indifferent world is one thing, but to be the instrument of that death? A dogkiller?... I don't suppose you'd tell the owners?

See also

Release Dates | Official Sites | Company Credits | Filming & Production | Technical Specs


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