Willie : How old are you?
Marty: Thirteen. But I have an old soul.
Willie: You know in five years you won't even remember me.
Paul: Supermodels are beautiful girls, Will. A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you've been drinking Jack and Coke all morning. She can make you feel high full of the single greatest commodity known to man--promise. Promise of a better day. Promise of a greater hope. Promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl. In her smile, in her soul, the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it's going to be okay. The supermodels, Willy? That's all they are. Bottled promise. Scenes from a brand new day. Hope dancing in stilletto heels.
Marty: I might just grow to be five-ten. I'll be hot.
Marty: What we've been doing lately is smoking massive amounts of drugs, binging on Entemmann's and listening to old Pink Floyd CD's.
Marty: I like to mash snow. It gives me a tremendous feeling of self satisfaction.
Paul: So you're the little neighborhood Lolita.
Marty: So you're the alcoholic high school buddy shit for brains.
Marty(Upon meeting Tracy, Willies girlfriend): Two words not in her vocabulary: lunch money.
Willie: I can't play Pooh to your Christopher Robin, Marty.
Back