[Trapper is guest of honor at a party celebrating his appointment as Chief Surgeon] Trapper John: ...No, no, no food, no food! Sex! I want sex! Give me some sex! [notices Hot-Lips across the mess tent] Trapper John: No, no, no, that one, the sultry b...
George Taylor: [to Nova] Did I tell you about Stewart? Now there was a lovely girl. George Taylor: The most precious cargo we'd brought along, she was... to be the new Eve. George Taylor: With our hot and eager help, of course. George Taylor: Probabl...
Joe: [to Spats, about the murders they just witnessed] We didn't see anything. Did we? Jerry: No! [laughs nervously] Jerry: Nothing. Besides, it's none of our business if you guys wanna bump each other off, we don't - [Joe nudges him to shut him up]
Sugar: [on the yacht Junior's pretending he owns] Which is the port and which is the starboard? Junior: Well that depends. That depends on whether you're coming or going. I mean, *normally*, normally, the aft is on the other side of the stern. But - ...
Jake: How are you gonna get the band back together, Mr. Hot Rodder? Those cops have your name, your address... Elwood: They don't have my address. I falsified my renewal. I put down 1060 West Addison. Jake: 1060 West Addison? That's Wrigley Field.
Marty McFly: Whoa. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that my mother has got the hots for me? Dr. Emmett Brown: Precisely. Marty McFly: Whoa. This is heavy. Dr. Emmett Brown: There's that word again. "Heavy." Why are things so heavy in the...
I see people having fits because their coffee is too hot or their baked potato is too cold, or some random something is imperfect and somebody can be blamed for it. These people can fly off the handle and nobody says, 'Too much beef will do that to a...
I have never tried to walk through a mall in the Christmas season dressed like a jolly old elf. You might as well dress up like a pork chop and walk into an alley full of starving dogs.
There are talking dogs all over the place, unbelievably boring they are, on and on and on about sex and shit and smells, and smells and shit and sex, and do you love me, do you love me, do you love me.
For Hell and the foul fiend that rules God's everlasting fiery jails (Devised by rogues, dreaded by fools), With his grim, grisly dog that keeps the door, Are senseless stories, idle tales, Dreams, whimseys, and no more.
When the dog bites, when the bee stings... I simply remember I have a boyfriend and suddenly things don't seem quite so completely shit.
All businesses -- no matter if they make dog food or software -- don't sell products, they sell solutions.
Why is it we want so badly to memorialize ourselves? Even while we're still alive. We wish to assert our existence, like dogs peeing on fire hydrants.
However much grief I carried, I liked the way my life was tending, these bright new directions. It's only human, to mourn and to reach toward forwardness at once.
A book reads the better which is our own, and has been so long known to us, that we know the topography of its blots, and dog's ears, and can trace the dirt in it to having read it at tea with buttered muffins.
Stories that pander to your every readerly desire and whim are like overly loyal dogs that live for the simple glow of your approval. I'm a cat person. I like a little aloofness in my pets and my writing.
Sometimes fear and confusion can blunt your perceptions. You become so driven to make sense of things, to identify the dangers lurking around the next corner, that you neglect to see the wonders all around you.
The image isn't reality. Even though we're used to thinking that way alot of the time. We show a kid a picture of a dog and say 'This is a doggie' - but it's not. It's just an image.
So, been attacked by any vampires yet?" "Not one." "Zombies? Giant spiders? Water monsters?" It's been really quiet on the supernatural front" "Too bad, 'cause I got attacked by a devil dog. It was not awesome.
He was high up now, gazing across to where Montmartre itself gazed out over the city. He was swept along in the wind, admiring the twin steeples of Notre-Dame as he passed, along with the dogged, devilish gargoyles of St. Jacques.
Be creative enough to dream, brave enough to try, persistent enough to succeed, and humble enough to thank those who helped you along the way.
