Pat Wheeler: A game-legged old man and a drunk. That's all you got? John T. Chance: That's WHAT I got.
The Old Man: Old Detroit has a cancer. The cancer is crime, and it must be cut out before we employ the two million workers that will breathe life into this city again.
Yellow Bastard: [referring to 19-year-old Nancy] A little old for my taste, but I can forgive that just this once!
Pat: How old are you? Tiffany: Old enough to have a marriage end and not wind up in a mental hospital.
Rooster Cogburn: I'm a foolish old man who's been drawn into a wild goose chase by a harpie in trousers and a nincompoop.
I first read science fiction in the old British Chum annual when I was about 12 years old.
The people who loved me when I was seven years old love my books, and the people who didn't like me when I was seven years old don't like my books.
And though thou notest from thy safe recess old friends burn dim, like lamps in noisome air love them for what they are; nor love them less, because to thee they are not what they were.
I wish people could have seen what they called our mansion. They would have been so disappointed, because it was just an old house that we fixed up, and I love the old house.
That's the hard part about sport: as men we haven't started to be in our prime, but as athletes we are old people. I needed support. I lost trust and did stupid things.
Some men are born old, and some men never seem so. If we keep well and cheerful, we are always young and at last die in youth even when in years would count as old.
Growing up as a kid in Detroit, way back, there was a movie station that would show old kinescope reproductions of old movies, and I remember seeing Bela Lugosi for the first time and being duly frightened out of my wits.
I just think old old movies, they make you concentrate and pay attention so much more. They feel so warm. A lot of modern digital videotape, it's just too bright. Don't know why, it's not warm.
Lt. Rooney: Who are you? What's your name? Mortimer Brewster: Well, usually I'm Mortimer Brewster, but I'm not quite myself today.
Teddy Brewster: [His first line] I must be catching cold. Abby Brewster: No, dear, it was Reverend Harper who sneezed.
Cab Driver: Hey, you! Five more bucks and you'll own it! Mortimer Brewster: Oh, no thanks! It wouldn't fit me!
Cab Driver: I knew this would end up in the nuthouse. Mr. Witherspoon: [offended] We like to think of it as a rest home!
Mortimer Brewster: You didn't want the reverend to see the body? Aunt Abby: Well, not at tea. That wouldn't have been very nice.
Jonathan Brewster: I'll get every one of you! I hate cops! I'll brain the first one that comes near me!
Photographer at Marriage License Office: Mr. Brewster? Mortimer Brewster: Now, look... Goodbye, dear.
Teddy Brewster: [to Aunt Abby and Aunt Martha] General Goethals was very pleased. He said the canal was just the right size.
