My mother went to a school called 'The Club of the Three Wise Monkeys'. And my grandmother, my father's mother, had a gold charm for her made with the speak no, see no, hear no evil monkeys. And I was fascinated by that charm. I'd sit in my mother's ...
I was surrounded at the time by about a dozen of the enemy, whose clubs rattled upon me without mercy, and the strokes of my sabre were rendered uncertain by the energetic pushes of an attendant who thus hoped to save me.
There was a time when I was - after my very first record from Nashville, I thought I might not be one of those who actually really makes it, and I may end up back in Canada, just playing clubs. And that might - this might have just been it.
I remember cleaning boots at Millwall on £250 a week and feeling like a millionaire. I'd made it then. At that time, if I never played for another club it wouldn't have bothered me too much because I'd made it with a football team in England.
Ron Woodroof: Let me give y'all a little news flash. There ain't nothin' out there can kill fuckin' Ron Woodroof in 30 days.
Tyler Durden: Hey, you created me. I didn't create some loser alter-ego to make myself feel better. Take some responsibility!
Narrator: And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.
Tyler Durden: It could be worse. A woman could cut off your penis while you're sleeping and toss it out the window of a moving car. Narrator: There's always that.
Narrator: This is crazy... Tyler Durden: People do it everyday, they talk to themselves... they see themselves as they'd like to be, they don't have the courage you have, to just run with it.
Tyler Durden: Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat. It's not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go! LET GO!
Narrator: I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of... wherever.
Narrator: I know it seems like I have more than one side sometimes... Marla Singer: More than one side? You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!
Narrator: Clean food, please. Waiter: In that case, sir, may I advise against the lady eating clam chowder? Narrator: No clam chowder, thank you.
[while the narrator is on the phone with the police] Tyler Durden: Tell him. Tell him, The liberator who destroyed my property has realigned my perceptions.
Narrator: [looking at a Calvin Klein ad on a bus] Is that what a man looks like? Tyler Durden: [laughs] Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction...
Tyler Durden: You're too old, fat man. Your tits are too big. [Tyler walks away, throwing his cigarette] Tyler Durden: Get the fuck off my porch.
Narrator: I want you to listen to me very carefully, Tyler. Tyler Durden: Okay... Narrator: My eyes are open. [the Narrator puts the gun into his mouth and pulls trigger]
Narrator: What are we doing tonight? Tyler Durden: Tonight? We make soap. Narrator: Really. Tyler Durden: To make soap, first we render fat.
Narrator: What do you do? Tyler Durden: What do you mean? Narrator: What do you do for a living? Tyler Durden: Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?
Marla Singer: Your whacked out bald freaks hit me with a fucking broom! They almost broke my arm! They were burning their fingertips with lye, the stink was unbelievable!
The Mechanic: In death, a member of project mayhem has a name, his name is Robert Paulsen. His name is Robert Paulsen. His name is Robert Paulsen. His name is Robert Paulsen...
