My advice to you. I know you think those guys are your friends. You wanna be a true friend to them? Be honest, and unmerciful.

Lester Bangs

Theodore Faron: Julian? I haven't seen you in twenty years. You look good. The picture the police have of you doesn't do you justice.
Julian Taylor: What do the police know about justice?

Female Neighbor: Excuse me? Excuse me. Never sleep with that man, never loan him money, and never believe a word he tells you. That's free advice.
Vincent Benedict: Morning, Agnes.

Marty McFly: [acting cool] Do you mind if we... park... for a while?
Lorraine Baines: That's a great idea. I'd love to park.
Marty McFly: Huh?
Lorraine Baines: Marty, I'm almost 18 years old. It's not like I've never parked before.
Marty McFly: What?
Lorraine Baines: Marty, you seem so nervous. Is something wrong?
Marty McFly: [trying to maintain composure] No... No.
[Lorraine takes a sip from a liquor bottle]
Marty McFly: [grabbing the bottle from Lorraine] Lorraine, Lorraine, What are you doin'?
Lorraine Baines: [starting to laugh] I swiped it from the old lady's liquor cabinet.
Marty McFly: Yeah, well, you shouldn't drink.
Lorraine Baines: Why not?
Marty McFly: Because you - you might regret it later in life.
Lorraine Baines: Marty, don't be such a square. Everybody who's anybody drinks.
[Marty takes a sip from Lorraine's bottle then spit-takes as he notices Lorraine lighting a cigarette]
Marty McFly: [nauseatingly] Geez! You smoke too?
Lorraine Baines: Marty, you're beginning to sound just like my mother!

Eight hundred leaf-tables and no chairs? You can't sell leaf-tables and no chairs. Chairs, you got a dinette set. No chairs, you got dick!

Nathan Arizona Sr.

Violet Beauregarde: Well, they can't be real people.
Willy Wonka: Why, of course they're real people.
Mr. Salt: Stuff and nonsense!
Willy Wonka: No, Oompa Loompas.
The Group: Oompa Loompas?
Willy Wonka: From Loompaland.
Mrs. Teevee: Loompaland? There's no such place.
Willy Wonka: Excuse me, dear lady, but...
Mrs. Teevee: Mr. Wonka, I am a teacher of geography.
Willy Wonka: Oh, well, then you know all about it and what a terrible country it is. Nothing but desolate wastes and fierce beasts. And the poor little Oompa Loompas were so small and helpless, they would get gobbled up right and left. A Wangdoodle would eat ten of them for breakfast and think nothing of it. And so, I said, "Come and live with me in peace and safety, away from all the Wangdoodles, and Hornswogglers, and Snozzwangers, and rotten, Vermicious Knids."
Mr. Salt: Snozzwangers? Vermicious Knids? What kind of rubbish is that?
Willy Wonka: I'm sorry, but all questions *must* be submitted in writing. And so, in the greatest of secrecy, I transported the entire population of Oompa Loompas to my factory here.
Veruca Salt: Hey, Daddy, *I* want an Oompa Loompa! I want you to get me an Oompa Loompa right away!
Mr. Salt: All right, Veruca, all right. I'll get you one before the day is out.
Veruca Salt: I want an Oompa Loompa now!
Violet Beauregarde: Can it, you nit!

God, I thought I was in Israel. I don't know why. Certainly not the decor, was it? Must have been dreaming. I was there for about a year on a kibbutz. I was feeling very romantic about that kind of socialism at the time. I thought I'd like to have a bash at it.


Don't say chilling.

George Simmons

And you really believe that just because you publish children's books, people care about my reputation? You can have pictures of me wearing nipple rings, butt fucking Captain Kangaroo. The only thing they care about is the stock and whether that stock is up or down!


Elle: For that matter, any masturbatory emissions could be termed reckless abandonment.
Professor Callahan: You've just won your case.

Mrs. Dashwood: Why so grave? You disapprove her choice?
Marianne: By no means. Edward is very amiable.
Mrs. Dashwood: Amiable? But?
Marianne: There is something wanting. He's too sedate. His reading last night...
Mrs. Dashwood: Elinor has not your feelings. His reserve suits her.

Carl Showalter: So, why don't you just ask him for the money?
Gaer Grimsrud: Or your fuckin' wife, you know.
Carl Showalter: Or your fucking wife, Jerry?

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