Walter: Who sent this Christmas Gram?
Buddy: What's a Christmas Gram? I want one!

Gun Salesman: We call this piece the Fecalator. One look at it and the target shits him or herself. Try it on.
Loki: Well, it's a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it's not nearly as impressive. Just doesn't have that Wrath-of-the-Almighty edge to it. I mean, come on, how am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? Look at this...
Bartleby: Well, then, you know, don't use a gun. Just lay the place to waste, like.
Loki: Easy for you to say. You get off light in razing. You got to stand there and read at Sodom and Gomorrah, I had to do all the work.
Bartleby: What work did you do? You lit a few fires.
Loki: I rained down sulphur, man, there's a subtle difference.
Bartleby: Oh, yeah, I'm sure.
Loki: Hey, you know, fuck you, man. Any moron with a pack of matches can set a fire. Raining down sulphur is like an endurance trial man. Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer.

Ah, devil ether. It makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel. Total loss of all basic motor function. Blurred vision, no balance, numb tongue. The mind recoils in horror, unable to communicate with the spinal column. Which is interesting because you can actually watch yourself behaving in this terrible way, but you can't control it.

Raoul Duke

Nun: You don't believe in God because of Alice in Wonderland?
Loki: No, "Through the Looking Glass". That poem, "The Walrus and the Carpenter" that's an indictment of organized religion. The walrus, with his girth and his good nature, he obviously represents either Buddha, or... or with his tusk, the Hindu elephant god, Lord Ganesha. That takes care of your Eastern religions. Now the carpenter, which is an obvious reference to Jesus Christ, who was raised a carpenter's son, he represents the Western religions. Now in the poem, what do they do... what do they do? They... They dupe all these oysters into following them and then proceed to shuck and devour the helpless creatures en masse. I don't know what that says to you, but to me it says that following these faiths based on mythological figures ensure the destruction of one's inner-being. Organized religion destroys who we are by inhibiting our actions... by inhibiting our decisions, out of... out of fear of some... some intangible parent figure who... who shakes a finger at us from thousands of years ago and says... and says, "Do it - Do it and I'll fuckin' spank you. "

Rufus: Are you saying you believe?
Bethany: No. But I have a good idea.

Jay: Get offa me. I wanna see what's up. What the fuck is this shit? Who the fuck are you, lady? Why the fuck did you hug my head?
Metatron: Quite a little mouth on him, isn't there?
Jay: What the fuck is this, The Piano? Why ain't this broad talking?
Metatron: I believe the answers that you seek lie within my companion's eyes.
Jay: What the fuck does that mean? Has everyone gone fuckin' nuts? What the fuck happened to that guy's head? I want some...
[God kisses him on the cheek. Jay faints]

What kind of rat bastard psychotic would play that song right now, at this moment?

Raoul Duke

Bethany: What's he like?
Metatron: God? Lonely. But funny. He's got a great sense of humor. Take sex for example. There's nothing funnier than the ridiculous faces you people make mid-coitus.
Bethany: Sex is a joke in heaven?
Metatron: The way I understand it, it's mostly a joke down here, too.

Metatron: However, if you should decide to stop being selfish and accept your responsibility, you won't be alone. You'll have support.
Bethany: What, more angels?
Metatron: Prophets. Two of them. The one who speaks - and he will, at great lengths, whether you want him to or not - will make mention of himself as a prophet. The other one... well, he's the quiet type, but he'll be helpful just the same.

Bethany: Then - I don't mean to sound ungrateful - but what are you doing hanging around?
Jay: We're here to pick up chicks.
Bethany: Excuse me?
Jay: We figure an abortion clinic is a good place to meet loose women. Why else would they be there unless they like to fuck?

Gimbel's Manager: Why are you smiling like that?
Buddy: I just like to smile, smiling's my favorite.

So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga... gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.

Carl Spackler

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