Jesse:
I mean, just once, I'd love to see, some little old lady save up all her money, to go to the fortune teller, and she'd get there, all excited about hearing her future, and the woman would say, "Um-humm. Tomorrow, and all your remaining days will be exactly like today. A tedious collection of hours. And you will have no new passions, and no new thoughts and no new travels, and when you die, you'll be completely forgotten.
Mike Strank:
Any man that doesn't have his masturbation papers in order better get them signed by tomorrow night or he ain't going overseas.
Gust:
I got mine already.
Lundsford:
Oh, yeah, I'm square.
Franklin Sousley:
Wait, wait. Why am I just hearing about this?
Mike Strank:
That's horseshit, Franklin! I don't have to repeat everything twice for you.
Franklin Sousley:
No, I didn't hear nothin' about no masturbating papers!
Ira Hayes:
Heard they were running short.
Franklin Sousley:
You know, nobody tells me nothing. That's real nice, guys!
Mike Strank:
All right, get your ass over to the officer in charge of records. Maybe he's got some more left. Leave your smokes. I'll play for you.
Franklin Sousley:
Thanks, Mike.
Mike Strank:
Listen, if he calls you an idiot, you take it like a man, okay? Just *do not* leave without signing them.
[Courtcase of Snively versus Framm, just started and Timberwolves coach, Arthur Chaney just walked into the courtroom, un-expectedly]
Arthur Chaney:
Why not let the dog choose, Your Honor? They say a dog is man's best friend. If that's the case, shouldn't the dog be able to choose who he wants to be friends with?
Judge Cranfield:
Who are you, Barnum or Bailey?
Arthur Chaney:
Arthur Chaney, Your Honor.
Judge Cranfield:
Mister Chaney, do you reali... [Judge Cranfield stammered, in shock]
Judge Cranfield:
Arthur Chaney? New York Knicks, '56? Huh, I was at that Celtics game where you did the turn around jumper, at the buzzer. [light chuckle]
Judge Cranfield:
I spilt beer all over my wife. [light laughter in the courtroom]
Bailiff:
Your Honor?
Judge Cranfield:
What? Oh, yes, yes, yes. [Judge Cranfield then cleared his throat]
Arthur Chaney:
Well, I've been thinking. This dog is what, three, four years old. That makes him an adult, in our years. I say let Buddy decide. [court members mummur after hearing this advice]
Judge Cranfield:
Mister Chaney, during my forty years on the bench, I have heard a lot of lamebrain cockamanie proposals. But this one I like. [Norm Snively and Josh Framm were then both sent outside, to see who Buddy would respond to and be Buddy's permanent owner]
Mark Hoffman:
Hello Agent Strahm, if you are hearing this the nyou have once again found what you are looking for. or so you think. Your dedication is to be commended. But i ask you, if you have learned anything on your journey of discovery. As the old adage goes: "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." The situation you find yourself in is, but of trust, so, i ask you Special Agent Strahm, have you learned to trust me? The only way to survive this room is by entering the glass box before you. Pain will be incurred, but you have a chance of survival. However, if you choose not to, you will never be heard from again. Your body will never be found. You will simply vanish. I ask you, Special Agent Strahm, have you learned enough to trust me? Would you heed my warning? For if you do not, this room will forever be your tomb, and my legacy will become yours. Make your choice.
Cliff:
Sometimes it seems like... like nothing exists until we get there, until we put our eyes on it. Like the whole fucking world was manufactured for our wants and needs, ya know?
Cydney:
You think there'll be a nice sunset?
Cliff:
I mean like if I take, if I just turn my head... ya know. For just a minute and... but don't tell me, but does everything just stop? Just shut down... go in to some energy saving hibernation mode, till I choose to reactivate them by simply... [makes a machinery sound while turning head around]
Cydney:
You should say sweet stuff to me sometimes.
Cliff:
How many times do I need to tell you? If there's anyone in this world that I could love, it's you. Why is that never enough?
Cydney:
Just forget about it.
Cliff:
Look... you helped create this fevered dream of immortality. You are the privileged witness who's gonna help me lead a hundred different lives. It's you.
Cydney:
Look, I get it... I know that in some bend way, your need for detachment fits my need for attachment, that's it. It's fitting fucking and fucking fit... I get it, okay? Let's stop lying to ourselves, okay?
Cliff:
I'm not lying now... I love the idea of loving you.
Cydney:
And I love hearing it.
[With cups of coffee, Alex and Clear sit down at a street-side Espresso-shop corner table]
Alex Browning:
The mortician said that Death has a design. Okay. I'm talking about omens. How do we know that just by sitting here - by, by sipping this coffee, or breathing the air, or even crossing the intersection - that we haven't even started in motion the events that will some day lead to our death: forty years from now, ten years from now, tomorrow. We don't. Unless we open ourselves up... [as clear glances nervously at the intersection, Alex draws from his pocket the tiny slice of paper that reads "Tod" and slides it across the table to her]
Alex Browning:
...to the signs that It's willing to show us?
Clear Rivers:
I don't understand. Did you see Tod die? Did it happen again, like on the plane?
Alex Browning:
[shaking his head] No. No, it didn't, but, I mean, it might as well have. This is a message from something, Clear, or someone - hinting at a design.
Clear Rivers:
Total bullshit. I mean, you can find death omens anywhere you want to. [Alex glances at the window of the Espresso shop and sees the ghostly reflection of a bus passing by. As she continues to talk, ominous music rises and Alex glances worriedly around the streets]
Clear Rivers:
Coffee. Starts with a C and ends with an E. So does the word "choke." So, what, we're going to choke to death? I wanna hear you. [Alex glances anxiously over his shoulder again]
Clear Rivers:
We'll go nuts if you start with the shits.
Alex Browning:
The mortician said that Death has a design. Right? Now, what if you, me, Tod, Carter, Terry, Billy, Missus Lewton messed up that design. For whatever reason, I, I saw Death's plan. We cheated him. But what if it was our time? What if we were not meant to get off that plane? What if it still is our time? If it is, then it's not finished, and we will die - now, not later - unless, unless we find the patterns and cheat It again. [Behind Alex's back, Carter drives his car up to the intersection and waits for the light. Terry is sitting next to him. Carter glances over to see Alex and Clear, and he scowls. Terry smiles at Carter, then sees them too, and her smile fades, as though fearful of a confrontation]
Clear Rivers:
After hearing you, I, I do believe... [Alex smiles]
Clear Rivers:
...that Tod killed himself. [Alex's face turns serious]
