Ha, ha. They're all gonna die.


Lindsey Meeks: I saw you on ESPN.
Ben: Yeah, we looked like morons, didn't we?
Lindsey Meeks: Yah, yah, totally. Well, not you so much.
Ben: Well, it was Florida. It was hot.

Terence Fletcher: I don't think people understood what it was I was doing at Shaffer. I wasn't there to conduct. Any fucking moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what's expected of them. I believe that is... an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we're depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong. The next Charlie Parker. I told you about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?
Andrew: Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head.
Terence Fletcher: Exactly. Parker's a young kid, pretty good on the sax. Gets up to play at a cutting session, and he fucks it up. And Jones nearly decapitates him for it. And he's laughed off-stage. Cries himself to sleep that night, but the next morning, what does he do? He practices. And he practices and he practices with one goal in mind, never to be laughed at again. And a year later, he goes back to the Reno and he steps up on that stage, and plays the best motherfucking solo the world has ever heard. So imagine if Jones had just said

Sarah Harding: I love you. I just don't... need you right now.
Dr. Ian Malcolm: I'll tell you what you NEED, a good anti-psychotic!
Sarah Harding: I'll be back in five or six days.
Dr. Ian Malcolm: No, you'll be back in five or six PIECES!

Armande Voizin: Sure you didn't put booze in that?
Vianne Rocher: Something better.
Armande Voizin: Perhaps you should give it to my daughter. Melt that chilly disposition of hers.

Warner Huntington III: How was your first class?
Elle: Oh, it was okay, except for this horrible preppy girl who tried to make me look bad in front of the professor, but no biggie.

[when approaching a slaughterhouse] What's that stench?


David: You're not blind. You're drinking Jack Daniels, and when you drink Jack, you start in with that... Frank Sinatra, she shot me down, give me a cigarette, "King of Sad" thing.
Brian: That I do. Give me a cigarette.

I have HBO.

Eddie Scrap-Iron Dupris

Virginia McCain: [talking to Jim Taylor] No, he's not here. I don't know where he is, he never tells me anything any more. Probably out having an affair somewhere.
[Buster walks in]
Virginia McCain: Oh, here he is.
[hands Buster phone]
Virginia McCain: It's Jim Taylor, he wants to know who you're having an affair with.

Jake Tyler Brigance: I don't know what to say.
Ethel Twitty: There's nothing you can say. I know you didn't want any of this to happen, but it happened all the same. You wagered all our lives on this. You just went ahead and did what you felt you had to do, no matter what the cost. Some folks think that's brave. Not me, Jake. Now, you may win, but I think we've all lost here.

Alby: Welcome to the Glade.
Thomas: Who put us here?
Alby: We don't know.

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