:rofl: a classic one! soooooo great! rep to u for bringing chevy chase to this forum :thumbsup:
Favourite Movie Quotes
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:rofl: a classic one! soooooo great! rep to u for bringing chevy chase to this forum :thumbsup:
Tommy DeVito: No more shines, Billy.
Billy Batts: What?
Tommy DeVito: I said, no more shines. Maybe you didn't hear about it, you've been away a long time. They didn't go up there and tell you. I don't shine shoes anymore.
Billy Batts: Relax, will ya? Ya flip right out, what's got into you? I'm breaking your balls a little bit, that's all. I'm only kidding with ya...
Tommy DeVito: Sometimes you don't sound like you're kidding, you know, there's a lotta people around...
Billy Batts: I'm only kidding with you, we're having a party, I just came home and I haven't seen you in a long time and I'm breaking your balls, and you're getting fucking fresh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.
Tommy DeVito: I'm sorry too. It's okay. No problem.
Billy Batts: Okay, salud.
Billy Batts: [takes a *****] Now go home and get your fuckin' shinebox.
Tommy DeVito: ****** fuckin' mutt! You, you fucking piece of ****!
Billy Batts: [taunting] Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on, come on, come on!
Tommy DeVito: Motherfucking... He bought his fucking button! That fake old tough guy! You bought your fucking button!
Tommy DeVito: You ****** fuck... Fuck! Keep that motherfucker here, keep him here!
My favorite scene in Goodfellas
Billy Batts: What?
Tommy DeVito: I said, no more shines. Maybe you didn't hear about it, you've been away a long time. They didn't go up there and tell you. I don't shine shoes anymore.
Billy Batts: Relax, will ya? Ya flip right out, what's got into you? I'm breaking your balls a little bit, that's all. I'm only kidding with ya...
Tommy DeVito: Sometimes you don't sound like you're kidding, you know, there's a lotta people around...
Billy Batts: I'm only kidding with you, we're having a party, I just came home and I haven't seen you in a long time and I'm breaking your balls, and you're getting fucking fresh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.
Tommy DeVito: I'm sorry too. It's okay. No problem.
Billy Batts: Okay, salud.
Billy Batts: [takes a *****] Now go home and get your fuckin' shinebox.
Tommy DeVito: ****** fuckin' mutt! You, you fucking piece of ****!
Billy Batts: [taunting] Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on, come on, come on!
Tommy DeVito: Motherfucking... He bought his fucking button! That fake old tough guy! You bought your fucking button!
Tommy DeVito: You ****** fuck... Fuck! Keep that motherfucker here, keep him here!
My favorite scene in Goodfellas
Casablanca (1942)
Isla: "Play it, Sam. Play As Time Goes By."
Rick: "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."
Rick: "And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Here's looking at you, ***. "
Rick: "If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."
Isla: "Play it, Sam. Play As Time Goes By."
Rick: "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."
Rick: "And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Here's looking at you, ***. "
Rick: "If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."
I'm gonna get the papers get the papers.
Fuck 'im. Fuck 'im in the ear. You fuck 'im in one ear, I'll fuck 'im in the other.
METAL HEAD
Closed Account
Swing swing!!
My day for get about it swing swing he could ruin a led zepplin reuion party swing shing swing!! Cuase he hates any music play at the apropreite level swing swing swing swing!!- garth alger waynes world 2
My day for get about it swing swing he could ruin a led zepplin reuion party swing shing swing!! Cuase he hates any music play at the apropreite level swing swing swing swing!!- garth alger waynes world 2
Citizen Kane (1941)
"I want to make sure that decent hard-working people in this community aren't robbed blind by a pack of money-mad pirates, just because they haven't anybody to look after their interests." (Kane at 25)
"He was disappointed with the world, so he built one of his own" (Leland about Kane's palace)
"I want to make sure that decent hard-working people in this community aren't robbed blind by a pack of money-mad pirates, just because they haven't anybody to look after their interests." (Kane at 25)
"He was disappointed with the world, so he built one of his own" (Leland about Kane's palace)
One of my favorite movies to quote.
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Dr. Gonzo: Let's give the boy a lift.
Raoul Duke: What? No. We can't stop here. This is bat country.
Raoul Duke: How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson ******; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback **** *************** agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?
Raoul Duke: [commenting on the song "One Toke Over the Line" playing on the radio] One toke? You poor fool! Wait till you see those goddamn bats...
Dr. Gonzo: [after spilling a vial of ****] Ahhhh! Did you see what god just did to us man?!
Raoul Duke: God didn't do it. You did! You're a fucking narcotics agent! I knew it!
Raoul Duke: There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.
Raoul Duke: And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the ****** of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Raoul Duke: I was right in the middle of a fucking reptile ***, and somebody was giving ***** to these goddamn things. Won't be long now before they tear us to shreds
Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn *******?
Raoul Duke: [Beginning to narrate the "Jefferson Airplane" hallucination] There I was... [Seeing the actual Hunter S. Thompson sitting in the scene] ****** of God, there I am! Holy fuck...
Raoul Duke: We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of *******, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of ***, a case of ****, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious **** collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
Raoul Duke: Those of us that had been up all night were in no mood for coffee and donuts, we wanted strong *****. We were, after all, the absolute cream of the national sporting press.
Dr. Gonzo: As your attorney, I advise you to take a hit out of the little brown bottle in my shaving kit. You won't need much, just a tiny taste.
Voice of **** Film Narrator: Know your dope fiend. You will not be able to see his eyes because of tea shades, but his knuckles will be white from inner tension and his pants will be crusted with semen from constantly jacking off when he can't find a **** victim.
Raoul Duke: There's a uh, big machine in the sky, some kind of, I dunno, electric snake, coming straight at us.
Dr. Gonzo: Shoot it.
Raoul Duke: Not yet, I want to study its habits.
Raoul Duke: Ah, devil ether. It makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel. Total loss of all basic motor skills. Blurred vision, no balance, numb tongue. The mind recoils in horror, unable to communicate with the spinal column. Which is interesting because you can actually watch yourself behaving in this terrible way... but you can't control it.
Dr. Gonzo: Sounds like big trouble. You're going to need plenty of legal advice before this thing is over. As your attorney, I advise you to rent a very fast car with no top. And you'll need the *******. Tape recorder for special music. Acapulco shirts. Get the hell out of L.A. for at least 48 hours. Blows my weekend.
Raoul Duke: Why?
Dr. Gonzo: Because naturally I'm going to have to go with you. And we're going to have to arm ourselves... to the teeth!
Raoul Duke: Jesus, bad waves of paranoia, madness, fear and loathing - intolerable vibrations in this place. Get out. The weasels were closing in. I could smell the ugly brutes.
Raoul Duke: You people voted for Hubert Humphrey, and you ****** Jesus!
Raoul Duke: All energy flows according to the whims of the Great Magnet. What a fool I was to defy him.
Raoul Duke: Oh god... did you eat all this acid?
Dr. Gonzo: That's right. MUSIC!
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Dr. Gonzo: Let's give the boy a lift.
Raoul Duke: What? No. We can't stop here. This is bat country.
Raoul Duke: How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson ******; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback **** *************** agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?
Raoul Duke: [commenting on the song "One Toke Over the Line" playing on the radio] One toke? You poor fool! Wait till you see those goddamn bats...
Dr. Gonzo: [after spilling a vial of ****] Ahhhh! Did you see what god just did to us man?!
Raoul Duke: God didn't do it. You did! You're a fucking narcotics agent! I knew it!
Raoul Duke: There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.
Raoul Duke: And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the ****** of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Raoul Duke: I was right in the middle of a fucking reptile ***, and somebody was giving ***** to these goddamn things. Won't be long now before they tear us to shreds
Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn *******?
Raoul Duke: [Beginning to narrate the "Jefferson Airplane" hallucination] There I was... [Seeing the actual Hunter S. Thompson sitting in the scene] ****** of God, there I am! Holy fuck...
Raoul Duke: We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of *******, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of ***, a case of ****, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious **** collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
Raoul Duke: Those of us that had been up all night were in no mood for coffee and donuts, we wanted strong *****. We were, after all, the absolute cream of the national sporting press.
Dr. Gonzo: As your attorney, I advise you to take a hit out of the little brown bottle in my shaving kit. You won't need much, just a tiny taste.
Voice of **** Film Narrator: Know your dope fiend. You will not be able to see his eyes because of tea shades, but his knuckles will be white from inner tension and his pants will be crusted with semen from constantly jacking off when he can't find a **** victim.
Raoul Duke: There's a uh, big machine in the sky, some kind of, I dunno, electric snake, coming straight at us.
Dr. Gonzo: Shoot it.
Raoul Duke: Not yet, I want to study its habits.
Raoul Duke: Ah, devil ether. It makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel. Total loss of all basic motor skills. Blurred vision, no balance, numb tongue. The mind recoils in horror, unable to communicate with the spinal column. Which is interesting because you can actually watch yourself behaving in this terrible way... but you can't control it.
Dr. Gonzo: Sounds like big trouble. You're going to need plenty of legal advice before this thing is over. As your attorney, I advise you to rent a very fast car with no top. And you'll need the *******. Tape recorder for special music. Acapulco shirts. Get the hell out of L.A. for at least 48 hours. Blows my weekend.
Raoul Duke: Why?
Dr. Gonzo: Because naturally I'm going to have to go with you. And we're going to have to arm ourselves... to the teeth!
Raoul Duke: Jesus, bad waves of paranoia, madness, fear and loathing - intolerable vibrations in this place. Get out. The weasels were closing in. I could smell the ugly brutes.
Raoul Duke: You people voted for Hubert Humphrey, and you ****** Jesus!
Raoul Duke: All energy flows according to the whims of the Great Magnet. What a fool I was to defy him.
Raoul Duke: Oh god... did you eat all this acid?
Dr. Gonzo: That's right. MUSIC!
Ace Boobtoucher
Founder and Captain of the Douchepatrol
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Surfing Instructor: I like her red hair. I wonder if the carpet matches her pubes.
Peter Bretter: I wanna stand up before I leave.
Surfing Instructor: I don't think you're ready, man.
Peter Bretter: I'm ready to ride fucking giants, Koonu.
Surfing Instructor: I think you're ready.
Dwayne the Bartender: Snuffleupagous fucks my **** up!
Darald: Let me just say that if God was a city planner he would not put a playground next to a sewage system!
Peter Bretter: You brought a gag?
Gag Me Girl: Yeah, and handcuffs. So do you wanna gag me?
Peter Bretter: Well, I kinda want to now.
Peter Bretter: Fuck you're cool! It's so hard to say, because, like, I **** you in so many ways.
Peter Bretter: [singing] Everybody hates you. Everybody wishes that you were dead. Peter you suck. Peter you suck. Peter your music is fucking terrible. Peter you suck, Peter you suck. You don't do anything of value. Peter you suck. Go write some music. But instead you sit and write these bullshit songs. It's so self-loathing. Go see a psychiatrist. I **** the psychiatrist. Go see one anyway.
Surfing Instructor: I like her red hair. I wonder if the carpet matches her pubes.
Peter Bretter: I wanna stand up before I leave.
Surfing Instructor: I don't think you're ready, man.
Peter Bretter: I'm ready to ride fucking giants, Koonu.
Surfing Instructor: I think you're ready.
Dwayne the Bartender: Snuffleupagous fucks my **** up!
Darald: Let me just say that if God was a city planner he would not put a playground next to a sewage system!
Peter Bretter: You brought a gag?
Gag Me Girl: Yeah, and handcuffs. So do you wanna gag me?
Peter Bretter: Well, I kinda want to now.
Peter Bretter: Fuck you're cool! It's so hard to say, because, like, I **** you in so many ways.
Peter Bretter: [singing] Everybody hates you. Everybody wishes that you were dead. Peter you suck. Peter you suck. Peter your music is fucking terrible. Peter you suck, Peter you suck. You don't do anything of value. Peter you suck. Go write some music. But instead you sit and write these bullshit songs. It's so self-loathing. Go see a psychiatrist. I **** the psychiatrist. Go see one anyway.
I think we need a bigger boat.
kristoflaw10
Closed Account
You talking to me?
The Boondock Saints
Rocco: [tearing through the apartment in a panic]
Donna/Rayvie: Rocco!
Rocco: WHAT?!
Donna: ...Where's my cat?
Rocco: I ****** your cat, you druggie bitch.
Donna: Why?
Rocco: I thought it would bring closure to our relationship.
Donna: You ****** my... my...
Rocco: Your what?
Donna: My...
Rocco: Your fuckin' WHAT?! Huh? Your WHAT, bitch? [puts *** to his own head] I'll shoot myself in the head, you can tell me that cat's name! Go ahead! Your what? Your precious, little...
Donna: Skippy! Skippy!
Rocco: Oh, Jesus! WHAT COLOR WAS IT, BITCH?!
Rayvie: Don't you fucking yell at her like that you prick!
Rocco: [turns *** on Rayvie] SHUT YOUR FAT ASS, RAYVIE! I CAN'T BUY A PACK OF SMOKES... WITHOUT RUNNIN IN TO NINE GUYS YOU FUCKED!
Rocco: [tearing through the apartment in a panic]
Donna/Rayvie: Rocco!
Rocco: WHAT?!
Donna: ...Where's my cat?
Rocco: I ****** your cat, you druggie bitch.
Donna: Why?
Rocco: I thought it would bring closure to our relationship.
Donna: You ****** my... my...
Rocco: Your what?
Donna: My...
Rocco: Your fuckin' WHAT?! Huh? Your WHAT, bitch? [puts *** to his own head] I'll shoot myself in the head, you can tell me that cat's name! Go ahead! Your what? Your precious, little...
Donna: Skippy! Skippy!
Rocco: Oh, Jesus! WHAT COLOR WAS IT, BITCH?!
Rayvie: Don't you fucking yell at her like that you prick!
Rocco: [turns *** on Rayvie] SHUT YOUR FAT ASS, RAYVIE! I CAN'T BUY A PACK OF SMOKES... WITHOUT RUNNIN IN TO NINE GUYS YOU FUCKED!
The Italian Job (1969) NOT THE CRAPPY INFERIOR 2003 REMAKE BUT THE ORIGINAL ONE!!!
Charlie Croker: Hang on, lads; I've got a great idea.
Charlie Croker: You're only supposed to blow the ****** doors off!
Mr. Bridger: Well, I hope he likes spaghetti. They serve it four times a day in the Italian prisons.
Charlie Croker: Hang on, lads; I've got a great idea.
Charlie Croker: You're only supposed to blow the ****** doors off!
Mr. Bridger: Well, I hope he likes spaghetti. They serve it four times a day in the Italian prisons.
Desperado (1995)
Quentin Tarantino: (after ******** a beverage that supposedly tastes like *****) This reminds me of a joke. This guy comes into a bar, walks up to the bartender. Says, "Bartender, I got me a bet for you. I'm gonna bet you $300 that I can **** into that glass over there and not spill a single, solitary drop." The bartender looks. I mean, we're talking, like, this glass is like a good ten feet away. He says, "Now wait, let me get this strait. You're tryin' to tell me you'll bet me $300 that you can ****, standing over here, way over there into that glass, and not spill a single drop?" Customer looks up and says, "That's right." Bartender says, "Young man, you got a bet." The guy goes, "Okay, here we go. Here we go." Pulls out his thing. He's lookin' at the glass, man. He's thinkin' about the glass. He's thinkin' about the glass. Glass. He's thinkin' about the glass, glass. Thinkin' about his dick. Dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass. And then, *foosh*, he lets it rip. And he-he's pisses all over the place, man. He's pissin' on the bar. He pissin' on the stools, on the floor, on the phone, on the bartender! He's ******* everywhere *except* the fucking glass! Right? Okay. So, bartender, he's laughing his fuckin' ass off. He's $300 richer. He's like, "Ha, ha, ha, ha!" **** dripping off his face. "Ha, ha, ha, ha!" He says, "You fucking idiot, man! You got it in everything except the glass! You owe me $300 punta." Guy goes, "Excuse me just one-one little second." Goes in the back of the bar. In back, there's a couple of guys playing pool. He walks over to them. Comes back to the bar. Goes, "Here you go, Mr. Bartender, 300." And the bartender's like, "What the fuck are you so happy about? You just lost $300, idiot!" The guy says, "Well, see those guys over there? I just bet them $500 a piece that I could **** on your bar, **** on your floor, **** on your phone, and **** on you, and not only would you not be mad about it, you'd be happy."
Quentin Tarantino: (after ******** a beverage that supposedly tastes like *****) This reminds me of a joke. This guy comes into a bar, walks up to the bartender. Says, "Bartender, I got me a bet for you. I'm gonna bet you $300 that I can **** into that glass over there and not spill a single, solitary drop." The bartender looks. I mean, we're talking, like, this glass is like a good ten feet away. He says, "Now wait, let me get this strait. You're tryin' to tell me you'll bet me $300 that you can ****, standing over here, way over there into that glass, and not spill a single drop?" Customer looks up and says, "That's right." Bartender says, "Young man, you got a bet." The guy goes, "Okay, here we go. Here we go." Pulls out his thing. He's lookin' at the glass, man. He's thinkin' about the glass. He's thinkin' about the glass. Glass. He's thinkin' about the glass, glass. Thinkin' about his dick. Dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass, dick, glass. And then, *foosh*, he lets it rip. And he-he's pisses all over the place, man. He's pissin' on the bar. He pissin' on the stools, on the floor, on the phone, on the bartender! He's ******* everywhere *except* the fucking glass! Right? Okay. So, bartender, he's laughing his fuckin' ass off. He's $300 richer. He's like, "Ha, ha, ha, ha!" **** dripping off his face. "Ha, ha, ha, ha!" He says, "You fucking idiot, man! You got it in everything except the glass! You owe me $300 punta." Guy goes, "Excuse me just one-one little second." Goes in the back of the bar. In back, there's a couple of guys playing pool. He walks over to them. Comes back to the bar. Goes, "Here you go, Mr. Bartender, 300." And the bartender's like, "What the fuck are you so happy about? You just lost $300, idiot!" The guy says, "Well, see those guys over there? I just bet them $500 a piece that I could **** on your bar, **** on your floor, **** on your phone, and **** on you, and not only would you not be mad about it, you'd be happy."
Seriously?!? Tarantino is the worst actor in the world!
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