Favorite Whiplash Quotes
The folder is your fucking responsibility, Tanner. Why would you give it to Neiman? Right? You give a calculator to a fucking retard he's gonna try to turn on a TV with it. Now get your sticks and get your ass on stage.Terence Fletcher
There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job.Terence Fletcher
And here comes mister gay pride of the Upper West Side himself. Unfortunately, this is not a Bette Midler concert, we will not be serving Cosmopolitans and Baked Alaska, so just play faster than you give fucking hand jobs, will you please?Terence Fletcher
You think I'm fucking stupid? I know it was you.Terence Fletcher
IF YOU DON'T HAVE ABILITY, YOU WIND UP PLAYING IN A ROCK BANDPoster of Buddy Rich on Andrew's wall
Terence Fletcher: I don't think people understood what it was I was doing at Shaffer. I wasn't there to conduct. Any fucking moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what's expected of them. I believe that is... an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we're depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong. The next Charlie Parker. I told you about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?
Andrew: Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head.
Terence Fletcher: Exactly. Parker's a young kid, pretty good on the sax. Gets up to play at a cutting session, and he fucks it up. And Jones nearly decapitates him for it. And he's laughed off-stage. Cries himself to sleep that night, but the next morning, what does he do? He practices. And he practices and he practices with one goal in mind, never to be laughed at again. And a year later, he goes back to the Reno and he steps up on that stage, and plays the best motherfucking solo the world has ever heard. So imagine if Jones had just said
[Repeated line] Not my tempo.Terence Fletcher
Nieman, you earned the part. Alternates, will you clean the blood off my drum set?Terence Fletcher
I can still fucking see you, Mini Me!Terence Fletcher
Terence Fletcher: You are upset.
Terence Fletcher: Say it.
Andrew: I'm upset.
Terence Fletcher: Say it so the whole band can hear you.
Andrew: [a little louder] I'm upset!
Terence Fletcher: Louder!
Andrew: [loud] I'm upset!
Terence Fletcher: LOUDER!
Andrew: [louder] I'M UPSET!
Terence Fletcher: You are a worthless, friendless, faggot-lipped little piece of shit whose mommy left daddy when she figured out he wasn't Eugene O'Neill, and who is now weeping and slobbering all over my drum set like a fucking nine-year old girl! So for the final, FATHER-FUCKING time, SAY IT LOUDER!
Andrew: [at the top of his lungs] I'M UPSET!
Terence Fletcher: [going back to compose the band] Start practicing harder, Nieman.
Terence Fletcher: Do you think you're out of tune? What are you... there's no fucking Mars Bar down there, what are you looking at? Look up here, look at me. Do you think you were out of tune?
Terence Fletcher: THEN WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SAY SO? Carried your fat ass for too long Metz, I'm not gonna have you cost us a competition because your minds on a fucking happy meal instead of on pitch.
For the record, Metz wasn't out of tune. You were, Erickson, but he didn't know and that's bad enough.Terence Fletcher