[Alex encounters his old friends, who are now police] Alex: It's impossible! I can't believe it! Georgie: Evidence of the ol' glassies! Nothing up our sleeves, no magic little Alex! A job for two who are now of job age! The police!
Johnny Ola: Hyman Roth always makes money for his partners. One by one, our old friends are gone. Death, natural or not, prison, deported. Hyman Roth is the only one left, because he always made money for his partners.
Mr. Goodkat: At least that's how it went with old Max, who wasn't so much old as he was tired, tired of being a dog without a day. Tired of waking up and finding his dreams were only dreams, but mostly, Max was tired of not having a front lawn.
Wendell: You think this boy Moss has got any notion of the sorts of sons of bitches that're huntin' him? Ed Tom Bell: I don't know, he ought to. He's seen the same things I've seen, and it's certainly made an impression on me.
Loretta Bell: Be careful. Ed Tom Bell: I always am. Loretta Bell: Don't get hurt. Ed Tom Bell: I never do. Loretta Bell: Don't hurt no one. Ed Tom Bell: [smiles] Well. If you say so.
Ed Tom Bell: The motel in Del Rio? Wendell: Yes, sir. None of the three had I.D. on 'em, but they're tellin' me all three is Mexican... was Mexicans. Ed Tom Bell: There's a question, whether they stopped being and when. Wendell: Yes, sir.
Foulfellow: [seeing a poster for Stromboli's puppet show] Well, well, well! Stromboli! So that old rascal's back in town, eh? [to Gideon] Foulfellow: Remember the time I put strings on you and passed you off as a puppet? [laughs] Foulfellow: We nearl...
Louisa von Trapp: I'm Brigitta. Maria: You didn't tell me how old you are... Louisa. Brigitta: I'm Brigitta, she's Louisa. She's thirteen years old, and you're smart! I'm ten, and I think your dress is the ugliest one I ever saw!
Danny: Has he just been busted? Marwood: No. Danny: Then why's he wearing that old suit? Withnail: Old suit? This suit was cut by Hawkes of Savile Row. Just because the best tailoring you've ever seen is above your fucking appendix doesn't mean anyth...
Music is pretty intimate stuff and I can only work with very few people: Gonzalez being one, Mocky being another and, on a completely different level, Broken Social Scene. With Broken Social Scene it's not one-on-one, it's a one-on-12. It's very heal...
Mortimer Brewster: Aunt Abby, how can I believe you? There are twelve men down in the cellar and you admit you poisoned them. Aunt Abby Brewster: Yes, I did. But you don't think I'd stoop to telling a fib.
Dr. Einstein: At least people in plays act like they've got sense. Mortimer Brewster: Oh, you think so? Did you ever see anybody in a play act like they got any intelligence? Dr. Einstein: [agonizing] How can somebody be so stupid!
Mortimer Brewster: [watching the fighting, lighting up a cigarette] Go on - fight, fight. I don't care. Mortimer Brewster: [watching the police trying to bring down Jonathan with a shoe] Oh, don't do that. It never works. Mortimer Brewster: [Jonathan...
Dr. Einstein: You shouldn't have killed him. Just because he know something about us, what happens? Jonathan Brewster: We come to him for help, and he tries to shake us down. Besides, he said I looked like Boris Karloff!
Jonathan Brewster: [pulling on surgical gloves] And now doctor... we go to work! Dr. Einstein: No, Johnny. I cannot operate without a drink! Jonathan Brewster: Pull yourself together, doctor! Dr. Einstein: I cannot pull myself together without a drin...
I respect kindness in human beings first of all, and kindness to animals. I don't respect the law; I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society except that which makes the roads safer, the beer stronger, the food cheaper and the old...
It's wonderful to look back at our old writing and cringe. It simply means we have grown and can write better now. And you found some parts you can be proud of, so when you throw the old writing on the floor and stomp on it, remember to celebrate tho...
A man of logic is a man of sin.
Man is not the lord of beings. Man is the shepherd of Being.
The banalities of a great man pass for wit.
There is no disputing that Lincoln was a great man.
