Earl McGraw: Who's the bride?
Edgar McGraw: Don't know. The name on the marriage certificate is "Arlene Machiavelli." That's a fake. We've all just been calling her "The Bride" on account of the dress.
Earl McGraw: You can tell she was pregnant. Man'd have to be a mad dog to shoot a goddamn good-looking gal like that in the head. Look at her. Hay-colored hair, big eyes. She's a little blood-spattered angel.

President Andrew Shepherd: I'm sorry about this. We'll do it better next time.
Sydney Ellen Wade: Well, I'm no expert but I think we did it pretty good this time.

Musicians for the most part are monosyllabic teenagers who really don't have a whole lot to say.


Gerry Conlon: What I remember most about my childhood is holding your hand. My wee hand in your big hand, and the smell of tobacco. I remember, I could smell the tobacco in the palm of your hand. When I want to feel happy, I try to remember the smell of tobacco.
Giuseppe Conlon: Oh, my heart.

Charlie: Look, kid, I - how much you weigh, son? When you weighed one hundred and sixty-eight pounds you were beautiful. You coulda been another Billy Conn, and that skunk we got you for a manager, he brought you along too fast.
Terry: It wasn't him, Charley, it was you. Remember that night in the Garden you came down to my dressing room and you said, "Kid, this ain't your night. We're going for the price on Wilson." You remember that? "This ain't your night"! My night! I coulda taken Wilson apart! So what happens? He gets the title shot outdoors on the ballpark and what do I get? A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville! You was my brother, Charley, you shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn't have to take them dives for the short-end money.
Charlie: Oh I had some bets down for you. You saw some money.
Terry: You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it. It was you, Charley.

Paul Edgecomb: John, do you know where we're taking you?
John Coffey: Help a lady?
Brutus "Brutal" Howell: That's right. But how do you know?
John Coffey: Don't know. To tell the truth, Boss, I don't know much'o anything.

Loretta: I don't even know you.
Johnny Hooker: You know me. I'm the same as you. It's two in the morning and I don't know nobody.

Patrick Kenzie: So what kind of name is Bressant?
Detective Remy Bressant: It's the kind they give you in Lousiana.
Patrick Kenzie: Oh yeah? Thought you were from here.
Detective Remy Bressant: Well, it all depends on how you look at it. I mean, you might think that you're more from here than me, for example. But I've been living here longer than you been alive. So who's right?
Patrick Kenzie: I'll mull it over.

You know something? You read too many comic books.

Jim Stark

Merrill: I'll make some sandwiches.
Bo: I want spaghetti.
Graham Hess: Spaghetti sounds great. What do you want, Morgan?
Morgan: Anything? French toast and mashed potatoes.
Graham Hess: Good choice. Merrill?
Merrill: Chicken Teriyaki.
Graham Hess: I'm gonna have a cheeseburger with bacon. Extra bacon.

We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

John Keating

Frankie, I've seen you at Mass almost every day for 23 years. The only person comes to church that much is the kind who can't forgive himself for something.

Father Horvak

FREE Movie Newsletter