Shoes? I have loved them all: '60s pumps; white Courreges ankle boots; platform soles from the first time around, in the '70s; more boots - ankle, calf, and knee-high; 1980s sneakers; pin heels and wedges; Mary Janes and stilettos.
It's my job, first and foremost, to take care of the football. Guys work their tails off. That's Football 101. From the time you play youth ball to high school, college, pro, every level, that's the starting point for every quarterback. You have to t...
In junior high P.E., I was way too shy to take a shower in front of the other kids. It was a horribly awkward time - body hair, odors... So I'd go from my sweaty shirt back into my regular clothes and have to continue the day.
Mom: [Playing Santa] And this is for daddy... [Picks up a gift-wrapped bowling ball and drops it in The Old Man's Lap] Mom: Here, from me to you. The Old Man: [high-pitched] Thanks a lot!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: How tall are you, private? Private Cowboy: Sir, five-foot-nine, sir. Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Five-foot-nine, I didn't know they stacked shit that high!
Sarah Belding: Be careful. You're a man who makes people afraid, and that's dangerous. The Stranger: It's what people know about themselves inside that makes 'em afraid.
[first lines] The Stranger: Beer... and a bottle. Lutie Naylor: Ain't much good, but it's all there is. [brings drinks] Lutie Naylor: You want anything else? The Stranger: Just a peaceful hour to drink it in.
Sheriff Dan Shaw: [after the Stranger blows up the hotel and shoots four men] What the hell happened? The Stranger: Somebody left the door open and the wrong dogs came home.
Rob: Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel. This is a delicate thing.
Barry: Holy shite. What the fuck is that? Dick: It's the new Belle and Sebastian... Rob: It's a record we've been listening to and enjoying, Barry. Barry: Well, that's unfortunate, because it sucks ass.
Rob: John Dillinger was killed behind that theater in a hale of FBI gunfire. And do you know who tipped them off? His fucking girlfriend. All he wanted to do was go to the movies.
Rob: Marvin Gaye. Laura: I know. Rob: Let's get it on. That's our song. Marvin Gaye is responsible for our entire relationship. Laura: Oh, is that so? I'd like a word with him then.
[Liz storms in] Rob: Hey, Liz. Liz: [calm] Hi, Rob... [screams] Liz: You fucking asshole! [beat, Liz walks out the store, Barry's in the corner, stares] Liz: Hi, Barry.
Rob: Look at these. I used to dream I'd be surrounded by exotic women's underwear forever and ever. Now I know they just save their best pairs for the nights they know they're going to sleep with somebody.
Will: [Sees a teenage boy loafing near a storefront] Johnny, why aren't you in church? Johnny - Town Boy: Why aren't you? [Will raises his hand as if to slap the boy for being disrespectful]
Mr. Potter: He [Peter Bailey] Mr. Potter: was a man of high ideals, so called. Ideals without common sense can ruin this town.
Prince Feisal: You, I suspect, are chief architect of this compromise. What do you think? Mr. Dryden: Me, your Highness? On the whole, I wish I'd stayed in Tunbridge Wells.
Harry Luck: I heard you got a contract open. Chris: Well, not for a high-stepper like you. Harry Luck: A dollar bill always looks as big to me as a bedspread.
Ronnie: You need to be glad that you graduated from high school, and that you're alive at eighteen, and you need to do something with yourself before you end up like he did.
Buttercup: If you'll release me, whatever you ask for ransom, you'll get it I promise you. Man in Black: [laughs] And what is that worth, the promise of a woman? You're very funny, Highness.
[lining up a rifle shot] Private Jackson: My goodness, and my fortress; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust.
