Capt. Jack Aubrey: Right lads, now, I know there's not a faint heart among you, and I know you're as anxious as I am to get into close action. But we must bring them right up beside us before we spring this trap. That will test our nerve, and discipline will count just as much as courage. The Acheron is a tough nut to crack... more than twice our guns, more than twice our numbers, and they will sell their lives dearly. Topmen, your handling of the sheets to be lubberly and un-navy like. Until the signal calls, you're to spill the wind from our sails, this will bring us almost to a complete stop. Gun crews, you must run out and tie down in double quick time. With the rear wheels removed, you've gained elevation. and without recoil, there'll be no chance for re-load, so gun captains, that gives you one shot from the lardboard battery... one shot only. You'll fire for her mainmast. Much will depend on your accuracy... however... even crippled, she will still be dangerous, like a wounded beast. Captain Howard and the marines will sweep their weather deck with swivel gun and musket fire from the tops. They'll try and even the odds for us before we board. They mean to take us as a prize. [all chuckling] Capt. Jack Aubrey: And we are worth more to them undamaged. Their greed... will be their downfall. England is under threat of invasion, and though we be on the far side of the world, this ship is our home. This ship, is England. So it's every hand to his rope or gun, quick's the word and sharp's the action. After all... surprise is on our side. Crew: Huzzah, huzzah!
Lewis Prothero: [shouting into phone] England prevails because *I* say it does!
Simon Sheppard: [Translating Slavic text on a crossbow] "All fear he who walks beneath the crown of Eternal Night." Abraham Van Helsing: No, no, no, no, it's not crown, it's halo; beneath the Halo of Eternal Night Simon Sheppard: Oh, well, you see why the design never survived. And look how heavy it is compared to what they were using in England at the time. Abraham Van Helsing: [talking about the crossbow in his hands] Ah, while the English made them for firing arrow shafts of wood, this was made for firing metal... silver.
Mole: You have disturbed the dirt. Milo: Uh, pardon me? Mole: You have disturbed the dirt! Dirt from around the globe spanning the centuries! [pulls the covers of Milo's bed, exposing clumps of dirt with little flags] Mole: What have you done? England must never merge with France! Milo: What's it doing in my bed? Mole: You ask too many questions! Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up! Milo: Me? I'm, uh... Mole: Bah! I will know soon enough. [grabs Milo's hand] Milo: Hey, hey, hey! Let go! Mole: Do not be such a crybaby. Hold still. [takes a bit of dirt from under one of Milo's fingernails] Mole: Aha! There you are. Now tell me your story, my little friend. [looks at dirt under magnifying lenses] Mole: Parchment fiber from the Nile Delta circa 500 B.C., lead pencil No. 2, paint flecks of a type used in government buildings, you have a cat, short hair Persian, two years old, third in a liter of seven. These are all the microscopic fingerprints of the mapmaker. [tastes dirt] Mole: And linguist.
Baron Roger Daguerre: You are the most beautiful bride England has ever seen. Maid Marian: I am the most pitiful bride England has ever seen.
[first lines] Narrator: I shall tell you of William Wallace. Historians from England will say I am a liar, but history is written by those who have hanged heroes. The king of Scotland had died without a son, and the king of England, a cruel pagan known as Edward the Longshanks, claimed the throne of Scotland for himself. Scotland's nobles fought him, and fought each other, over the crown. So Longshanks invited them to talks of truce - no weapons, one page only. Among the farmers of that shire was Malcolm Wallace, a commoner with his own lands; he had two sons, John and William. Malcolm Wallace: I told ye to stay. Young William: Well, I finished my work. Where're we goin'? Malcolm Wallace: McAndrews'. He was supposed to visit when the gatherin' was over. Young William: Can I come? Malcolm Wallace: No! Go home, boy. Young William: But I want to go. Malcolm Wallace: Go home, William, or you'll feel the back o' my hand.
Bill: On the seventh day the Lord rested, but before that he did, he squatted over the side of England and what came out of him... was Ireland. No offense son. Amsterdam Vallon: Nah, none taken, sir. I grew up here. All I ever knew of Ireland was from the talk of the others at the orphan asylum. Bill: And which part of that excrementitious isle where your forebears spawned? Amsterdam Vallon: I've been told Kerry, I lost proof of it in my language at the asylum.
Mary Boleyn: [in Henry's bedchamber] So, this is it?... Where the king of England sleeps? King Henry VIII: And reads and writes. Finds a few moments each day to himself. Mary Boleyn: [nervously] And yet you invite me here? King Henry VIII: Because I like you and trust you. Mary Boleyn: You hardly know me. King Henry VIII: I am lied to a hundred times a day. Petitioned. Lobbied. One learns how to decifer a face. [caresses Mary's face] King Henry VIII: Yours is as the sun. One shouldn't gaze too long. [pauses] King Henry VIII: My flattery makes you uncomfortable?... Because compliments in your family are usually for some else. The elder sister... That's something I understand. What it is to be the second child. Forever in the shadows... I'm making you uncomfortable again. [Mary smiles, shaking her head as Henry leans in and kisses her]
Diane Farrow: You know, all my life, I've felt ugly, and now I have the worlds most desireable man telling me that I am beautiful. I have the Prince of England at home pining for me. I mean, Paul, this is like a dream come true. i could be a princess.
Elizabeth: Captain Barbossa , I am here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal . Barbossa: There are a lot of long words in there, Miss; we're naught but humble pirates. What is it that you want? Elizabeth: I want you to leave and never come back. Barbossa: I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request. Means "no". Elizabeth: Very well. I'll drop it. [dangles medallion over the sea] Barbossa: Me holds are burstin' with swag. That bit of shine matters to us? Why? Elizabeth: It's what you've been searching for. I recognized the ship. I saw it eight years ago on the crossing from England . Barbossa: Did ya, now? Elizabeth: Fine. Well, I suppose if it is worthless then there's no point in me keeping it. [it drops a bit, the pirates lunge forward] Barbossa: No! Ah. [chuckles] Barbossa: You have a name, Missy? Elizabeth: Elizabeth... Turner. I'm a maid in the Governor's household. Barbossa: Miss Turner...? [turns to face the pirates] Pintel: Bootstrap. Barbossa: And how does a maid come to own a trinket such as that? Family heirloom, perhaps? Elizabeth: I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean. Barbossa: Very well, you hand it over and we'll put your town to our rudder and ne'er return. Elizabeth: [she hands it over] Our bargain? [Barbossa walks away from her] Bo'sun: Still the guns and stow 'em, Signal the men, set the flags and make good to clear port. Elizabeth: Wait! You have to take me to shore. According to the Code of the Order of the Brethren... Barbossa: First, your return to shore was not part of our negotiations nor our agreement so I must do nothing. And secondly, you must be a pirate for the pirate's code to apply and you're not. And thirdly, the code is more what you'd call "guidelines" than actual rules. Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Miss Turner .
Roland: That's the difference between England and America. The English maintain civil relationships with their ex's. Americans sue them.
Steve-O: [to Dave England who has an upset stomach] Last time you shit in a damn van and now you get to shit in a limo!
Vanessa Redgrave: In England you have had centuries when words are totally divorced from truth.
Le Morte: Cliff, do I sound Irish? Cliff, do I sound like some rune-saluting, clover-sniffing Goddamn Celt to you! Do I sound like I belong in the shadow of that sheep-schlepping whore, do I Cliff? Cliff: No. Le Morte: Then is everyone in New England a goddamn moron or did you just find me the only one. Cliff: No. We still have plenty of stupid people up here, especially in Vermont.
Stevo: See, to me, England was nothing more then a big fucking American state like North Dakota or Canada.
Weslie, Fox Hound Regular: [after Ireland have scraped a 1-1 draw with England during Italia '90] Winston Churchill, Lawrence Of Arabia, Elton John! Yiz can all go *fuck* yerselves!
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