Richard: Sarcasm is the refuge of losers. Frank: [sarcastically] It is? Really? Richard: Sarcasm is losers trying to bring winners down to their level. Frank: [sarcastically] Wow, Richard, you've really opened my eyes to what a loser I am. How much d...
Frank: It's the same old story. Boy finds girl, boy loses girl, girl finds boy, boy forgets girl, boy remembers girl, girls dies in a tragic blimp accident over the Orange Bowl on New Year's Day. Jane: Goodyear? Frank: No, the worst.
Ed: [after Ludwig has been shot with a cuff link dart, fallen off a building, run over by a bus, flattened by a steam roller, and trampled by a marching band] Oh, Frank! It's horrible. That's so horrible! Frank: [comforts Ed] I know, Ed. Ed: My fathe...
Young Noah: [raising fists in air] Dad! God... I stammered! Frank: Stammered, stuttered... what's the difference. You couldn't understand a damn thing he said. [Allie laughing] Frank: Anyway, I got him to read some poetry aloud and pretty soon his st...
Karl: [Eating potted meat] I reckon it tastes alright. Frank: You really think it's got peckers in there? Karl: You know better than that. You ought not say that word. Frank: It smells funny. Karl: Yeah, it's pretty loud. Looky there. I believe you r...
Vaughan Cunningham: [about potted meat] They aren't moving too well, but I'll tell you what, I'll give a couple cans free to the right kid. Frank: I don't like potted meat. Daddy used to say they was made out of lips, peckers and intestines. Linda: F...
Frank Lopez: Hey, Tony. Remember when I told you when you first started working for me, the guys that last in this business, are the guys who fly straight. Low-key, quiet. But the guys who want it all, chicas, champagne, flash... they don't last. Ton...
[Wilson is trying to goad Torrey into drawing on him] Wilson: I guess they named a lot of that Southern trash after old Stonewall. Frank 'Stonewall' Torrey: Who'd they name you after? Or do you know? Wilson: I'm saying that Stonewall Jackson was tras...
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Haven't you heard? Conscience is dead. Charlie Simms: No, I haven't heard. Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Well, then, take the fuckin' wax outta your ears! Grow up! It's fuck your buddy, cheat on your wife, call your mother on Mother's D...
Colonel Frank Fitts: Where's your wife? Lester Burnham: Uh, I dunno. Probably out fucking that dorky, prince-of-real-estate asshole. And you know what? I don't care. Colonel Frank Fitts: Your wife is with another man and you don't care? Lester Burnha...
Clyde Barrow: I don't think he's lost. I think the bank's been offerin' extra reward money for us. I think Frank just figured on some easy pickin's, didn't ya Frank? You're no Texas Ranger. You're hardly doin' your job. You ought to be home protectin...
What a stupid attitude we have in this country to personal stories.
All punk is is attitude. That's what makes it. The attitude.
Anger is one of the sinews of the soul.
I like the architecture of lingerie.
Artists don't make objects. Artists make mythologies.
I, in the end, make art for myself.
You can't rush an art form.
Songwriting is an art unto itself, not to be confused with performing.
I was always confident in my art and in myself as an artist.
Stage performing is a dying art form.
