Reply #37: A few of mine...and by few, I mean assload [View All]

[ghostsofgiants]

From Blue Velvet:
Raymond: Do you want me to pour it Frank?
Frank Booth: No I want you to fuck it. Shit, yes, pour the fuckin' beer.

Ben: To your health.
Frank Booth: Ah, shit, let's drink to something else. Let's drink to fucking. Yeah, say, "Here's to your fuck, Frank."
Ben: If you like, Frank. Here's to your fuck.

From A Clockwork Orange:
Alex: Well, well, well! Well if it isn't fat stinking billy goat Billy Boy in poison! How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarble, ya eunuch jelly thou!

From Dazed and Confused
Tony: So, you're not gonna go to law school? What do you wanna do then?
Mike: I wanna dance!

Slater: Imagine how many people out there are fuckin' right now man, just goin' at it.

Slater: George Washington was in a cult, and the cult was into aliens, man.

Darla: What are you looking at? Wipe that face off your head, bitch.

Slater: Didja ever look at a dollar bill, man? There's some spooky shit goin' on there. And it's green too.

Ms. Ginny Stroud: Okay guys, one more thing, this summer when you're being inundated with all this American bicentennial Fourth Of July brouhaha, don't forget what you're celebrating, and that's the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn't want to pay their taxes.

From Fight Club: (There's a lot, but I'll only post a select few)
Tyler Durden: Did you know if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?
Narrator: No. I did not know that. Is that true?
Tyler Durden: That's right; one can make all kinds of explosives using simple household items...
Narrator: Really?
Tyler Durden: If one were so inclined.

Tyler Durden: Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So be it!

Tyler Durden: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.

Tyler Durden: All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.

From Good Will Hunting:
Billy: You're legally allowed to drink now so we figured the best thing for you was a car.

Will: Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll give it a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. So I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never had a problem with get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Send in the marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number was called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some guy from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes home to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile my buddy from Southie realizes the only reason he was over there was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And of course the oil companies used the skirmish to scare up oil prices so they could turn a quick buck. A cute little ancillary benefit for them but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And naturally they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what do I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. Why not just shoot my buddy, take his job and give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.

From Magnolia:
Frank T.J. Mackey: I will drop-kick those fuckin' dogs if they come near me.

Gwenovier: What are you doing?
Frank T.J. Mackey: I'm quietly judging you.

From Mulholland Drive
Cynthia: You're broke!
Adam Kesher: But I'm not broke.
Cynthia: I know, but you're broke. Where are you?

I'll stop now, haha.