[the inmates are playing cards and betting with cigarettes] Martini: [rips a cigarette in half] I bet a nickel. McMurphy: Dime's the limit, Martini. Martini: I bet a dime. [Puts the two halves onto the table] McMurphy: This is not a dime, Martini. Th...
A brick and a blanket are going to help me conquer the world. Just give me an army at my disposal, and you’ll see what I mean.
A blanket could be used to put out a fire. Unless that fire is in your heart, and you simply refuse to give up and let the issue, and your body, rest.
A blanket could be used as an example for how you should make important decisions. Don’t give me a yes or a no now. Sleep on it and get back to me in the morning.
Without rules, there’d be nothing to break. Well, except glass, dance, and bricks. So I guess bricks could be stacked up in place of a list of rules.
A blanket could be used instead of a blindfold when kidnapping someone. And the trunk of your car could be rented out like a cheap motel room to a midget.
Blankets could be used to identify liars and thieves, if lawmakers passed laws stating that lawmakers were required by law to wear blankets out in public.
A brick could be used as a stamp on a letter, to increase the weight and boost the cost and profitability of the postal service. It would be government efficiency at its finest.
A brick could be used as disbelief. I can tell you believe me, so why don’t you go ahead and hold this brick for me.
A brick could be used as a thick bumper sticker. Then if you get in a crash, you can blame it on the housing market and the element of irrational exuberance created by Alan Greenspan.
Would you bet your paycheck on a weather forecast for tomorrow? If not, then why should this country bet billions on global warming predictions that have even less foundation?
What I learned at LucasArts was, you don't make your bets on ideas: ideas are cheap. You make your bets on people.
You can't just keep recycling revivals. And you can't keep betting on the efforts of guys like me who've been around. You have to take the next step and bet on the next generation.
This election isn't about Barack Obama or Mitt Romney. It's about you. The other guys write $10 million checks and make $10,000 bets. But we've bet this campaign on you.
What kind of husband would I be if I bet against my own marriage?' I smiled. 'The stupid kind. Didn't you listen to your dad when he told you not to bet against me?
Issues need to be addressed. So do boxes of bricks that need to be mailed. Make the shipping label out to Kat Nelb, 2332 Blanket Anagram Way, Jacksonville, Fl 3223.
A blanket could be folded up and kept in the trunk of my car, in much the same way that I do with the Chinese gymnastics team before I chauffer them around town.
A brick could be affixed to the collar of my shirt, because I’ve already got the weight of the world on my shoulders, so what’s the problem with a little new construction to go on top?
A brick could be a columnist for the New York Times, and could even win a Nobel Prize. And why not? Is that any more absurd than both those things happening for Paul Krugman?
A brick could be used for job security, like an employment paperweight. Hey, in this economic depression, I’ll take anything I can get to help me hold down a job.
A brick could be used as a cube. No it couldn’t. If you thought it could, you need to be punished. I’m going to recommend to the high school principal that you be forced to repeat geometry—with Mr. Blanket.
