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| "QuoTeS" sayings packed full of detirmination, ingenuity, grace, inspiration, and hillarity |
| Shallow Grave "alex" Alex: Now that's important to me. I need to die misunderstood. Alex: When was the last time you heard these exact words: 'You are the sunshine of my life?' Alex: [to the Goth girl] When you get up in the morning, how do you decide what shade of black to wear? Alex: Family? Family? Friends? Drugged-up, wandering, suicidal, search-of-the-self fuck-ups don't have families. Alex: You didn't tell me that this was for children. I hate children. I'd raise money to have the little fuckers put down. I want me money back! Alex: So tell me, Cameron, just tell me because I'd like to know, what on earth could make you think that we would want to share a flat like this with someone like you? I mean, my first impression, and they're rarely wrong, is that you have none of the qualities that we normally seek in a prospective flatmate. I'm talking here about things like presence, charisma, style and charm, and I don't think we're asking too much, I don't think we're being unreasonable. Take David here, for instance: a chartered accountant he may be, but at least he tries hard. The point is I don't think you're trying. Alex: They went up there alive and came back down dead! Did you notice that? The difference, I mean: alive, dead, dead, alive, that sort of thing? It wasn't difficult to spot. He killed them both. Alex: But Juliet, you're a doctor. You kill people every day! Alex: God, you two are sensitive! All I'm doing is implying some kind of ugly sordid sexual liaison. I'd be proud of that sort of thing. Juliet: We're going to dance? Alex: Well, it's physical contact, isn't it? Alex: I'd like to ask you about your hobbies... Now when you sacrifice a goat and you rip its heart out with your bare hands, do you then summon hellfire? Or do you just send out for a pizza? Alex: I'm so happy I could DIE! Alex: I'm not frightened. I'm a little terrified, maybe! |
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| Possible spoilers ahead...you have been warned... |
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| Star Wars I "obi-wan kenobi" Obi-Wan Kenobi: If they find us, they will crush us, grind us into TINY pieces and BLAST us into oblivion! Obi-Wan Kenobi: Why do I get the feeling that we've picked up another pathetic life form? |
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| Trainspotting "mark" Mark: Swanney taught us to adore and respect the national health service. For it was the source of much of our gear. We stole drugs. We stole prescriptions or bought them, sold them, swapped them, forged them, photocopied them. Or traded drugs with cancer victims, alcoholics, old-age pensioners, AIDS patients, epileptics, and bored housewives. Mark: Thank you, your honor. With God's help I'll conquer this terrible affliction. Mark: Let's face it, it could've been wonderful. Mark: What's on the menu this evening sir? Mother Superior: Your favorite dish. Mark: Excellent. Mother Superior: Your usual table, sir. Mark: Oh, why thank you. Mother Superior: Would sir care to pay for his bill in advance? Mark: No. Stick it on my tab. Mother Superior: Ah, regret to inform, sir, credit limit was reached and breached quite some time ago. Mark: Oh, well in that case... [pulls out money] Mother Superior: Would sir care for a starter of some garlic bread perhaps? Mark: No, thank you. I will proceed directly to the IV of hard drugs, please. Mark: [upon receiving the suppositories] Oh yeah, for all the good they've done me, I might as well have stuck them up my arse! Mark: Why would I wanna sell my passport?! Mark: Brilliant gold taps, virginal white marble, a seat carved from ebony, a cistern full of chanel number five, and a flunky handing me pieces of raw silk toilet roll. But under the circumstances I'll settle for anywhere. Mark: Right. So we all get old and then we can't hack it anymore. Is that it? Sick Boy: Yeah. Mark: That's your theory? Sick Boy: Yeah. Beautifully fucking illustrated. Mark: In a thousand years, there will be no men and women, just wankers, and that's fine by me. Mark: Well, he's always been lacking in moral fiber. Mark: The downside of coming off junk was I knew I would need to mix with my friends again in a state of full consciousness. It was awful. They reminded me so much of myself, I could hardly bear to look at them. Mark: Excuse me, excuse me. I don't mean to harass you, but I was very impressed with the capable and stylish manner in which you dealt with that situation. And I was thinking to myself, now this girl's special. Diane: Thanks. Mark: What's your name? Diane: Diane. Mark: And where are you going, Diane? Diane: I'm going home. Mark: Well, where's that? Diane: It's where I live. Mark: Great. Diane: What? Mark: Well, I'll come back with you if you like, but like, I'm not promising anything, you know. Diane: Do you find that this approach usually works? Or let me guess, you've never tried it before. In fact, you don't normally approach girls - am I right? The truth is that you're a quiet sensitive type but, if I'm prepared to take a chance, I might just get to know the inner you: witty, adventurous, passionate, loving, loyal. Taxi! A little bit crazy, a little bit bad. But hey - don't us girls just love that? Mark: Eh? Diane: Well, what's wrong boy - cat got your tongue? Mark: Phew! I haven't felt that good since Archie Gemmill scored against Holland in 1978! Mark: It's SHITE being Scottish! We're the lowest of the low. The scum of the fucking Earth! The most wretched miserable servile pathetic trash that was ever shat on civilization. Some people hate the English. I don't. They're just wankers. We, on the other hand, are colonized by wankers. Can't even find a decent culture to get colonized by! We're ruled by effete assholes. It's a shite state of affairs to be in, Tommy, and all the fresh air in the world won't make any fucking difference! Mark: Because it's illegal! Mark: Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin? Mark: The truth is that I'm a bad person. |
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