Jake: What about her? [indicating hunchback girl walking by] Austin: So baby's got a little back. Hunch, that is. Naah, way too easy. Jake: OK. [indicates hippy albino girl playing guitar] Albino Folk Singer: [singing] I have no pigment... Austin: Any girl with a guitar is hot. Albino Folk Singer: [continues singing] I need sunscreen... Austin: Granted, she's a hippy albino. She could still be prom queen. Jake: OK, uh, what about the Fratelli sisters? [indicates awkward Siamese twins conjoined at the head] Austin: So they're slightly disfigured and connected at the head. But combined, those two make up one pretty decent chick. Reggie Ray: Yeah, I'd do 'em. Austin: I know you would, Reggie Ray. But no, I'm looking for somebody who's really messed up. I'm talking about a real shitbomb. [Janie Briggs walks by] Austin: Well, bombs away! Jake: No, no, no, no, anyone but her! Not... Janie Briggs! Guys, she's got glasses and a ponytail! Aw, look at that, she's got paint on her overalls, what is that? Guys, there's no way she could be prom queen! Malik: Damn! That shit's whack!
Guitar Player In Club Band: Y'know, you were really good tonight kid. Danny Doyle: Yeah, too bad nobody will ever know.
Molecules: Are you interested in science by any chance? I'm interested in molecules. The Sufis say each one of us is a planet spinning in ecstasy. But I say each one of us is a set of shifting molecules. Spinning in ecstasy. In the near future, worn out things will be made new again by reconfiguring their molecules. A pair of shoes. A tire. Molecular detection will also allow the determination of an object's physical history. This match box for example. Its collection of molecules could indicate everywhere it's ever been. They could do it with your clothes. Or even with your skin, for that matter. Wait three days until you see the bread. The guitar will find you. Among us, there are those who are not among us. Lone Man: I'm among no one.
Ulysses Everett McGill: What'd the devil give you for your soul, Tommy? Tommy Johnson: Well, he taught me to play this here guitar real good. Delmar O'Donnell: Oh son, for that you sold your everlasting soul? Tommy Johnson: Well, I wasn't usin' it.
William Miller: [on meeting Stillwater] Russell. Jeff. Ed. Larry. I really love your band. I think the song "Fever Dog" is a big step forward for you guys. I think you guys producing it yourselves, instead of Glyn Johns, was the right thing to do. And the guitar sound... is incindiary. Incendiary. Way to go. [He turns to leave. The band members regard one another for a moment] Russell Hammond: Well, don't stop there! Jeff Bebe: Yeah, come back here! I'm incendiary, too, man!
Guitar Instructor: This is basic plucking.
Casey: Alright... Victor Sparks! This song is, um, written by Craig for a band called the Victors!... Mark: Victor Sparks? Michael: [nodding] Victor Sparks. Mark: Sounds like a porn star. Michael: [drinking his beer] Oh, he wishes. Mark: [laughing] Which one is Victor Sparks? Michael: [pointing towards stage] He's the Pillsbury-guy looking there... Victor Sparks: [tuning guitar and addressing the crowd] Y'all don't have to be so polite...
Paul Green: Don't look at your fingers! Do you want to know why? Because girl guitar players look at their fingers. Do you want to be a girl guitar player? C.J. Tywoniak: No. Paul Green: Do you want to be in The Bangles? C.J. Tywoniak: No.
Death: Only one man can kill this many Russians. Bring his guitar to me!
Peyton Kelly: My mom says that she fell in love with you because you played guitar and you sounded just like Elvis. Joe Kingman: Really? Joe Kingman: [in Elvis voice] Well, what do you think? Peyton Kelly: I think she was tone deaf, and you sound more like a wounded moose than the King. Joe Kingman: Ohh, a wounded moose?
Lucia: I don't know how you do it. You're always so nice and so calm. Tom was like that too. It's depressing. Bill Truitt: You're nice. Lucia: That's how I always felt around you too, like the Baroness in The Sound of Music. While everybody's just singing and climbing an Alp. And I just wanna STUFF THAT GUITAR UP THAT NUN'S ASS! And... ugh!
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