Silence, village idiot!


[closing argument] I want to tell you a story. I'm going to ask you all to close your eyes while I tell you the story. I want you to listen to me. I want you to listen to yourselves. Go ahead. Close your eyes, please. This is a story about a little girl walking home from the grocery store one sunny afternoon. I want you to picture this little girl. Suddenly a truck races up. Two men jump out and grab her. They drag her into a nearby field and they tie her up and they rip her clothes from her body. Now they climb on. First one, then the other, raping her, shattering everything innocent and pure with a vicious thrust in a fog of drunken breath and sweat. And when they're done, after they've killed her tiny womb, murdered any chance for her to have children, to have life beyond her own, they decide to use her for target practice. They start throwing full beer cans at her. They throw them so hard that it tears the flesh all the way to her bones. Then they urinate on her. Now comes the hanging. They have a rope. They tie a noose. Imagine the noose going tight around her neck and with a sudden blinding jerk she's pulled into the air and her feet and legs go kicking. They don't find the ground. The hanging branch isn't strong enough. It snaps and she falls back to the earth. So they pick her up, throw her in the back of the truck and drive out to Foggy Creek Bridge. Pitch her over the edge. And she drops some thirty feet down to the creek bottom below. Can you see her? Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die. Can you see her? I want you to picture that little girl. Now imagine she's white.

Jake Tyler Brigance

Larry: Alice, tell me something that's true.
Alice: Lying's the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off - but it's better if you do.

Pippin: [to himself] *WHAT* were you thinking, Peregrin Took? What service could a hobbit offer such a great lord of men?
Faramir: [approaching] It was well done. Generous deeds should not be checked by cold council. So, you are to join the tower guard?
Pippin: [sheepishly] I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me.
Faramir: It once belonged to a boy of the citadel. A very foolish one; who spent more time slaying dragons than attending to his studies.
Pippin: This was yours?
Faramir: Yes. My father had it made for me.
Pippin: Well, I'm taller than you were then. Though I'm not likely to grow anymore... except sideways.

Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may.

Tyler Durden

Jerry Maguire: What do you want from me? My soul?
Dorothy: Why not? I deserve that much.

Mrs. Lovett: Mr. T, you didn't!
[looks into the chest and sees Pirelli's dead body. Shuts it]
Mrs. Lovett: You're barking mad! Killing a man what done no harm to ya!
Sweeney Todd: [polishing his razor] He recognized me from the old days. Tried to blackmail me. Half me earnings.
Mrs. Lovett: [relieved] Oh, well that's a different matter then. For a moment there I thought you lost your marbles.

Dan: Didn't fancy my sandwiches?
Alice: Don't eat fish.
Dan: Why not?
Alice: Fish piss in the sea.
Dan: So do children.
Alice: Don't eat children either.

No tomb for Denethor and Faramir. No long, slow sleep of death embalmed. We shall burn, like the heathen kings of old. Bring wood and oil.


Narrator: Oh, it's late. Hey, thanks for the beer.
Tyler Durden: Yeah, man.
Narrator: I should find a hotel.
Tyler Durden: [in disbelief] What?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: A hotel?
Narrator: Yeah.
Tyler Durden: Just ask, man.
Narrator: What are you talking about?
Tyler Durden: [laughs] Three pitchers of beer, and you still can't ask.
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: You call me because you need a place to stay.
Narrator: Oh, hey, no, no, no, I didn't mean...
Tyler Durden: Yes, you did. So just ask. Cut the foreplay and just ask.
Narrator: Would - would that be a problem?
Tyler Durden: Is it a problem for you to ask?
Narrator: Can I stay at your place?
Tyler Durden: Yeah.

Your life is defined by its opportunities... even the ones you miss.

Benjamin Button

Did it matter, then, she asked herself, walking toward Bond Street. Did it matter that she must inevitably cease, completely. All this must go on without her. Did she resent it? Or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely? It is possible to die. It is possible to die.

Virginia Woolf

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