Tyrell: We began to recognize in them a strange obsession. After all, they are emotionally inexperienced, with only a few years in which to store up the experiences which you and I take for granted. If we gift them with a past, we create a cushion or a pillow for their emotions, and consequently, we can control them better.
Deckard: Memories! You're talking about memories!

Good morning, my lord. I see you are open for business - so let's to church.

Viola De Lesseps

Hans Gruber: You *can* unlock the vault, can't you?
Theo: You didn't bring me along for my charming personality.

You might have to decide between seeing your children again and the future of the human race.


Dube: Aah, that is a fine cigar, sir!
Paul Rusesabagina: This is a Cohiba cigar. Each one is worth 10,000 francs.
Dube: 10,000 francs?
Paul Rusesabagina: Yes, yes. But it is worth more to me than 10,000 francs.
Dube: What do you mean, sir?
Paul Rusesabagina: If I give a businessman 10,000 francs, what does that matter to him? He is rich. But, if I give him a Cohiba cigar straight from Havana, Cuba. Hey, that is style, Dube.
Dube: [smiles] Style!

WHAT is going on? Mr. Pottery class... nice to meet ya.


Jake: Look at you, in those candy-assed monkey suits.
Willie 'Too Big' Hall: At least we got a change of clothes. You're wearing the same shit you had on three years ago.

Try to be your normal, humorous self. The guy you were before the tailspin. Do you remember that guy? People love that guy.


Ethan Hunt: [Ethan is hanging to the side door of the plane] Benji, open the door!
Benji Dunn: Ethan? How did you get in the plane?
Ethan Hunt: I'm not in the plane, I'm ON the plane! Open the door!
Benji Dunn: Yeah, yeah, yeah, right!
Benji Dunn: Ha! How's that?
Ethan Hunt: That's the wrong door!
Luther Stickell: [notices the rear door opened] Not that door, Benji, the other door!
Benji Dunn: Oh, yeah, sorry!

It's beer o'clock, and I'm buying.


Draco: My apologies for the way you were brought here. I wasn't sure you'd accept a formal invitation.
Bond: There's always something formal about the point of a pistol.

Now, with such simplicity, such clarity, everything falls into place. It must be a crime that her husband can declare unsolved and be believed by all the world. She must make it look like a rape, but she must leave her husband the clues. Once he discovers who it was, he'll put the case into the file of unsolved murders. Another break-in by some sex-crazed man.

Barbara Sabich

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