The Hardy Boys burned me out. I was recharging my batteries. It was time to return to work, but it was tough because my visibility was low.
Major John Reisman: Boy, do I love that Franko.
[first lines] Boy: [in Arabic] They've found something... small pieces.
[while holding a ginger-haired boy hostage] Simon Skinner: Stop, or the ginger-nut gets it!
Johnny Boy: I fuck you right where you breathe.
Rev. Harry Powell: Salvation is a last-minute business, boy.
Basher: Where we at boys? Livingston: Pins and floor sensors now. Basher: Blinder.
Pappy O'Daniel: Holey moley! These boys are a hit! Junior O'Daniel: But Pappy, they's integrated!
Murphy: Role models can be very important to a boy.
Jack: There he is. There's my boy. But who's your daddy? Who is yo' daddy?
Nurse: Who's Tony? Wendy Torrance: He's the little boy that lives in his mouth.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?
Luther Perkins: That boy Elvis sure talks a lot of poon.
Ice: [singing] Play it cool boy, real cool.
Riff: Boy, am I a victim of disappointment in you.
I've two huge German shepherds who are my boys. They're called Biscuit and Buster, and I love them to bits.
Blending tracks and weaving and manipulating prerecorded music to create this mood, some people do it much better than others.
I do feel like there's a level of ridiculousness going on in electronic music... It's getting borderline absurd out there.
I think between The Beach Boys, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and innumerable acts after that... rock music became a huge economic force.
Thomas Dolby is part mad scientist, part nature boy, and entirely moved by the power of music.
That's what keeps me up at three in the morning: Who's looking at reviews of Cabin Boy right now?
