Eli Sunday:
Oh, Daniel, please... I'm in desperate times. I need a friend... I feel the walls closing in. I've sinned! I need help! I'm a sinner! I've let the Devil grab hold of me in ways I never imagined! I'm so full of sin.
Plainview:
The Lord sometimes challenges us, doesn't he?
Eli Sunday:
Oh yes he does! Yes he does! Oh! He's completely failed to alert me to the recent panic in our economy and this! I must have this! I've invested... my investments have... Oh, Daniel, I won't bore you, but I... If I could grab the Lord's hands for help I would, but he does these things all the time, these mysteries that he presents and while we wait, while we wait... wait for his word...
Plainview:
You're not the chosen brother, Eli. It was Paul who was chosen. He found me and he told me about your land. You're a fraud.
Eli Sunday:
Why are you talking about Paul? Don't say this... don't say this to me, Daniel.
Plainview:
I did what your brother couldn't. I broke you and I beat you.
As a convinced atheist, I ought to agree with Voltaire that Judaism is not just one more religion, but in its way the root of religious evil. Without the stern, joyless rabbis and their 613 dour prohibitions, we might have avoided the whole nightmare of the Old Testament, and the brutal, crude wrenching of that into prophecy-derived Christianity, and the later plagiarism and mutation of Judaism and Christianity into the various rival forms of Islam. Much of the time, I do concur with Voltaire, but not without acknowledging that Judaism is dialectical. There is, after all, a specifically Jewish version of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment, with a specifically Jewish name
[deleted scene]
Fred Weasley:
Look everyone, it's the heir of Slytherin!
George Weasley:
Be careful! He's a seriously evil wizard.
Ron:
Come on, Harry. Fred and George were just having a laugh.
Harry:
They're the only ones.
Ron:
Okay, so half the school thinks you're nipping off to the Chamber of Secrets every night. Who cares?
Harry:
Maybe they're right.
Hermione:
Harry! Harry? Oh, come on!
Harry:
Look, I didn't know I could speak Parseltongue! What else don't I know about myself? Look. Maybe you can do something, even something horrible and not know you did it.
Hermione:
You don't believe that, Harry. I know you don't. And if it makes you feel any better, Malfoy's staying for the holidays, too.
Ron:
Why would that make anyone feel any better?
Hermione:
Because, in a few days the Polyjuice Potion will be ready! In a few days, we may truly know who is the heir of Slytherin.
Ross Giggins:
Turning now to sports... [Cindy types new text for the teleprompter]
Ross Giggins:
and an evil video tape that kills anyone who watches it in seven days. It's true. We're all in danger. There's an alien force that's trying prevent you from knowing the truth.
Carson Ward:
Oh, no. Campbell, are you insane?
Ross Giggins:
It's a horrible fate.
Cindy:
Carson, I have to do this. [Ward types his text]
Ross Giggins:
Correction, there really is no danger. Actually, I didn't really mean anything I just said. Yes, I did. Every word of it. Everyone watching this could be dead in a week. [everybody's fighting over the telemprompter keyboard, the janitor sits on it]
Ross Giggins:
Oh, shizl gzngahr, % + 7, , 193419 ckin etd vaus erstn gubl chn q shnitzi guorsn blkn (, , 18 469 [Janitor takes over the keyboard]
Ross Giggins:
I been cleanin' after this dumb-ass cracker Giggins for ten years, but I been hittin' it with his woman for twelve. Know what I'm sayin', nigga? She likes her some chocolate. Sharpton for President y'all. I'm outie.
Edgar:
I trust you found everything to your satisfaction?
Ella:
Yes, thank you.
Edgar:
Good, good. [Edgar knocks book off table]
Edgar:
Oh, dear. How clumsy of me. Pick it up. [Ella picks it up]
Edgar:
Very good. Now touch your toes.
Ella:
[touching her toes] Oh, no.
Edgar:
Oh, yes. And while you're about it, why don't you pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time? [Ella does so]
Edgar:
Now jump up and down.
Ella:
[jumping up and down] Please stop.
Edgar:
Wait. Perhaps you know this one. [sings]
Edgar:
Put your left foot in... [Ella puts left foot in]
Edgar:
...put your left foot out... [Ella puts left foot out]
Edgar:
...put your left foot in... [Ella puts left foot in]
Edgar:
...and shake it all about. Shake, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. [Ella shakes]
Edgar:
Shake your booty. Shake your booty. [Ella shakes booty]
Edgar:
Oh ho! This is fabulous!
Heston:
Hate to be a party pooper, but Edgar, evil plans, remember?
Edgar:
Yes, you're right [to Ella]
Edgar:
Okay, stop.
Rex:
Mr. Lightyear, now I'm curious... what does a space ranger actually do?
Woody:
He's not a space ran-*ger*! He doesn't fight evil or, or... shoot lasers or fly.
Buzz:
Excuse me.
Buzz:
[Buzz deploys his wings; all exclaim in excitement]
Hamm:
Wow. Impressive wingspan. Very good.
Woody:
Oh, what? What? These are plastic. He can't fly.
Buzz:
They are a terillium-carbonic alloy, and I *can* fly.
Woody:
No, you can't.
Buzz:
[scoffs] Yes, I can.
Woody:
Can't.
Buzz:
Can.
Woody:
Can't, can't, ca-an't!
Buzz:
I tell you, I could fly around this room with my eyes closed!
Woody:
Okay, Mr. Lightbeer, prove it.
Buzz:
All right then, I will.
Dr. Moreau:
Permit me Mr.Douglas, to tell you something of the Devil as I've come to know him. The Devil is that element in human nature, that impels us to destroy and debase.
Edward Douglas:
And what are you about upon this island but destruction and debasement.
Dr. Moreau:
Oh well, I can tell you very plainly... [Majai interrupts by putting his foot on the dinner table to which Dr.Moreau reacts]
Dr. Moreau:
No please, don't do that. [Majai removes foot from table]
Dr. Moreau:
For 17 years I have been striving to create a... some measure of refinement in the human species you see. And it is here, on this very island, that I sir, have found the very essence of the Devil.
Edward Douglas:
What do you mean?
Dr. Moreau:
I've seen the Devil, in my microscope and I have chained him, and I suppose you could say in a sense metaphorically speaking, I have cut him to pieces. The Devil, Mr.Douglas, I've found is nothing more than a tiresome collection of genes, and it is with great assurance that I can tell you, that Lucifer, Son of Morning is no more.
Captain Ahab:
So you crossed his wake again?
Capt. Boomer:
Aye. Twice.
Captain Ahab:
But you could not fast him?
Capt. Boomer:
Why would I want him? Isn't one limb enough? My wants a profitable home. No thank you, sir. No more white whales for me. He's best left alone.
Captain Ahab:
Aye, but he'll be hunted nonetheless! What's best left alone, Captain, isn't always least to fight. When did you last see him?
Capt. Boomer:
Upon my soul, sir, your blood's at boiling point!
Captain Ahab:
Which way was he headed?
Capt. Boomer:
Good God! East, I think!
Captain Ahab:
East! Mr. Starbuck, prepare to set sail! We've wasted enough to time. Good day to you, Captain!
Capt. Boomer:
What the devil is wrong with him? Has he lost his senses?
Starbuck:
My apologies, Captain Boomer. No offense meant, I'm sure, sir. 'Tis the pain in his stump.
Capt. Boomer:
The man's mad!
