Gonzo: My name is Charles Dickens. Rizzo the Rat: And my name is Rizzo the Rat... wait a second! You're not Charles Dickens! Gonzo: I am too! Rizzo the Rat: No! A blue furry Charles Dickens who hangs out with a rat? Gonzo: Absolutely! Rizzo the Rat: ...
Village Boy 2: We're ashamed to live here. Our fathers are cowards. O'Reilly: Don't you ever say that again about your fathers, because they are not cowards. You think I am brave because I carry a gun; well, your fathers are much braver because they ...
[after her affair has become public knowledge, Sheba has moved out of her home and is staying with Barbara] Barbara Covett: [voiceover] This last month has been the most delicious time of my life. Of course we have had our ups and downs. The pressure...
Elizabeth Bennet: Charlotte! Charlotte Lucas: My dear Lizzy. I've come to tell you the news. Mr. Collins and I are... engaged. Elizabeth Bennet: To be married? Charlotte Lucas: Yes of course. What other kind of engaged is there? [Lizzy looks shocked]...
Stuart Ullman: I don't suppose they told you anything in Denver about the tragedy we had in the Winter of 1970. Jack Torrance: I don't believe they did. Stuart Ullman: My predecessor in this job left a man named Charles Grady as the Winter caretaker....
Dr. Josiah Boone: Seems to me I knew your family, Henry. Didn't I fix your arm once when you, oh, bumped off a horse? Ringo Kid: Are you Doc Boone? Dr. Josiah Boone: I certainly am. Ah, let's see... I'd just been honorably discharged from the Union A...
Coccotti: You know who I am, Mr. Worley? Clifford Worley: I give up. Who are you? Coccotti: I'm the Anti-Christ. You got me in a vendetta kind of mood. You tell the angels in heaven you never seen evil so singularly personified as you did in the face...
Henry Hurt: I, uh, I have a request from the news people. Marilyn Lovell: Uh-huh? Henry Hurt: They're out front here. They want to put a transmitter up on the lawn. Marilyn Lovell: Transmitter? Henry Hurt: Kind of a tower, for live broadcast. Marilyn...
Aladdin: [saving Jasmine from an irate merchant] Thank you, kind sir. I'm so glad you found her. Aladdin: [to Jasmine] I've been looking all over for you! Princess Jasmine: [whispering] What are you doing? Aladdin: [whispering] Just play along. Farou...
Claire Standish: What's your name? John Bender: What's yours? Claire Standish: Claire. John Bender: Claire? Claire Standish: Claire. It's a family name. John Bender: Oh, it's a fat girl's name. Claire Standish: Oh, thank you. John Bender: You're welc...
Major Shears: You'll go on without me. That's an order. You're in command now, Shears. Major Shears: You make me sick with your heroics! There's a stench of death about you. You carry it in your pack like the plague. Explosives and L-pills - they go ...
[Caesar is aiming his gun at Corky, who is tied up - 'bound' as the title has it] Caesar: God. I should have seen this coming the minute I met you. Everybody knows your kind can't be trusted. Fucking queers make me sick. But you made a fatal mistake....
The notion that evil is non-rational is a more significant claim for Eagleton than at first appears, because he is (in this book [ ] as in others of his recent 'late period' prolific burst) anxious to rewrite theology: God (whom he elsewhere tells us...
That kind of thinking [that writers must alleviate their guilt for leading a creative life] is based on the idea that the creative life is somehow self-indulgent. Artists and writers have to understand and live the truth that what we are doing is nou...
Literature is the extant body of written art. All novels belong to it. The value judgement concealed in distinguishing one novel as literature and another as genre vanishes with the distinction. Every readable novel can give true pleasure. Every nove...
Night air has the strangest flavour Space to breathe it - time to savour All that night air has to lend me Til the morning makes me angry In the night air, the night air. I've acquired a kind of madness Daylight fills my heart with sadness And only s...
I don't know how you hear music. I imagine that if you like music at all then it has, in your head, some kind of third dimension to it, a dimension suggesting space as well as surface, depth of field as well as texture. Speaking for myself, I used to...
The beautiful unruliness of literature is what makes it so much fun to wander through: you read Jane Austen and you say, oh, that is IT. And then you turn around and read Sterne, and you say, Man, that is IT. And then you wander across a century or s...
Siddhartha wants liberation, Dante wants Beatrice, Frodo wants to get to Mount Doom—we all want something. Quest is elemental to the human experience. All road narratives are to some extent built on quest. If you’re a woman, though, this fundamen...
What kind of world have we built when it is more acceptable to ask for sex than a cuddle session? … Have we so stripped our sexuality of inherent value that it becomes the sacrificial lamb on the altar of connection, because everything else is too ...
Some writers are the kind of solo violinists who need complete silence to tune their instruments. Others want to hear every member of the orchestra—they’ll take a cue from a clarinet, from an oboe, even. I am one of those. My writing desk is cove...
