Well, you know what my dad always said, Having dreams is what makes life tolerable.


Johnny Truelove: You ever have that dream: the one where you did something... You don't know why, but you can never go back?

Heroin had robbed Renton of his sex drive, but now it returned with a vengeance. And as the impotence of those days faded into memory, grim desperation took hold of his sex-crazed mind. His post-junk libido, fuelled by alcohol and amphetamine, taunted him remorselessly with his own unsatisfied desire.

Mark "Rent-boy" Renton

[screaming] You failed me! You failed me!

Vincent Gray

Jake La Motta: Is it done?
Irma: No, it's not done.
Jake La Motta: Don't overcook it. You overcook it, it's no good. It defeats its own purpose.
[Irma gives Jake a stern but nasty look]
Jake La Motta: What are you doin'? I just said don't overcook it. You're overcookin' it, bring it over.
Irma: You want your steak?
Jake La Motta: Bring it over. Bring it over! It's like a piece of charcoal! Bring it over here!
Irma: You want your steak?
Jake La Motta: YEAH, RIGHT NOW!
[Irma stabs the steak, exits the stove and slams the steak on his plate. She hastily pours carrots on the plate]
Irma: Okay. There's your stupid steak. Can't wait for it to be done?
Jake La Motta: No, I can't wait.
Irma: Good! Okay? Happy? Happy?
Jake La Motta: That's all I want. That's all I want!
Irma: That's... there! No, more! There!
[Jake routinely flips the table, spilling the contents all over the floor]
Jake La Motta: Bodder me abott a steak? Huh?
Irma: That's GREAT!
Irma: YEAH!

Let me break it down for you like a fraction.

Frank Catton

Room Clerk: Are you here for an affair, sir?
Benjamin: What?
Room Clerk: The Singleman party, sir?
Benjamin: Ah, yes, the Singleman party.

Harry: I didn't mean to blow her up, I just... lost control.
Ron: Brilliant!
Hermione: Honestly Ron, it's not funny! Harry was lucky not to be expelled.
Harry: I think I was lucky not to have been arrested actually.
Ron: I still think it's brilliant.

I know everything there is to know about the greatest game ever invented.

Wilbur 'Shooter' Flatch

It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.


William Stryker: You were sentenced to death for decapitating a Senior Officer. Your sentence was carried out by a firing squad at ten hundred hours. How'd that go?
Logan: It tickled.

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Ooh, but I still smell her.
[inhales deeply through nose]
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here.

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