We are meant for each other and not meant for each other. It's a contradiction.

Juan Antonio

Barbara Jean: [she finishes singing a song at her concert] Thank you. I wanna tell you all a little secret which you might not know, and that is that last night I thanked my lucky stars that I could be here at all to sing for ya. I heard on the radio this little boy, nine years old. Sometimes a deejay'll play a tune and ask everybody to phone in and say how they like it. I was listenin', and this little nine-year-old called in. The song had voices in the background, like the way they use backup voices these days, soundin' like little munchkins. He called up, the deejay said, "How old are you, son?" The boy said, "I'm nine, and I think it's gonna be a hit. " The deejay said, "Why?" "Because it had those chipmunks in it. " And I thought that was so cute, because, well, I can sing like a munchkin myself. I'm real fond of The Wizard of Oz. Plus, I live out, you know, just a ways off of Interstate on the road to Chattanooga. So you can see why I kinda related to that. I think me and the boys are gonna strike up another tune for you now. Let's go, boys. I think there's a storm... seems like it's a-brewin'. That's what my grandaddy used to say before he lost his hearin'. Once he got deaf, he never talked much no more. 'Cept sometimes he'd say "Oh, gosh" or "Durn it" or "My word!" My granny'd go around clickin' her teeth to the radio all day. Boy, was she a lot of fun, and cooked my favorite, roast beef. She was a sweetheart. She raised chickens too. She, um... Did you ever hear a chicken sound? You know how chickens go? Here, chick, chick, chick. Here, chick, chick, chick. Anyway, I guess we'd better strike up this tune before it's too late. Okay, boys. The first job I ever really got... Grandma... She's the one who clacked her false teeth to the radio. She taught my mama how to sing, and my mama taught me. One time she took me, 'cause we was gonna get a new Frigidaire. She took me to the Frigidaire store where the man was advertisin'. This record was goin' 'round, and Mama told him I knew how to sing. He said, "If she learns this tune, I'll give y'all a quarter. " So Mama and I went home... And then what happened? Let's see, I think... Uh, yeah. We went home and I learned both sides of the record in half an hour. We went back and told him that I'd learned 'em, and he said, "Let me hear," so I sang both sides of the record instead of just one. So he gave us cents, and we went across the street and had us a soda. Ever since then I been workin'. I don't... I think ever since then I been workin' and doin' my... - Come on, come on. - Supportin'myself. Anyway...
Barnett: [comes up on stage and starts to pull her from the microphone] Hey, hey. Hey, hey.
Barbara Jean: Am I all right? Am I all right?
Barnett: Oh, you're fine, darlin'.
[he guides her offstage]

Hegep: Is there anything I can do to please you?
Moses: You can stop living like a king. You're not one.

Harry: Your bird, there was nothing I could do. He just caught fire.
Dumbledore: Oh, and about time too. He's been looking dreadful for days. Pity you had to see him on a burning day.

Whoa whoa whoa. Sorry pal, there's a mummy on the loose.

Rick O'Connell

Detective Richie Roberts: Good work Frank. You... want a drink or something? Celebrate?
Frank Lucas: You got any holy water?

Rick: You've gotta call the cops.
Lou Bloom: And we will, at the right time. We're going to find the person that drove that car.

You could be a model. It's too bad you're not sexy.


Private Ryan: Hell, these guys deserve to go home as much as I do. They've fought just as hard.
Captain Miller: Is that what I'm supposed to tell your mother when she gets another folded American flag?
Private Ryan: You can tell her that when you found me, I was with the only brothers I had left. And that there was no way I was deserting them. I think she'd understand that.

You can either surf, or you can fight!


Augusten. Don't smoke my cigarettes. You have a pack of your own.

Deirdre Burroughs

Walter Sparrow: Chapter 23. You can call me Fingerling. My real name is Walter. Walter Paul Sparrow. What you've read so far is not the whole truth. Much has been changed to protect the innocent... and the guilty. I once read that the only philosophical question that matters is whether or not to commit suicide. I guess that makes me a philosopher. You can say it was my inheritance. After my mother's death, my father couldn't cope. He didn't leave a not... just a number. That number followed me from foster home to foster home till college when I met her: Laura Tollins. I thought she'd help me forget my father's number. It was a mistake to think I could escape it. I loved her. And I thought she loved me. Until my father's number returned to haunt me. That fucking number... When I circled every 23rd letter of her note... it became clear. The number had gone after me. And now it wanted her. I was right. She was in danger. I just didn't realize the danger was me. What began as a suicide note, turned into something more. Much, much more.

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