Patrick Kenzie:
Cheese, if you ever disrespect her again like that, I'm gonna pull your fuckin' card, okay? So you're saying you didn't do it, fine. We'll take your money, and we'll be on our way. When it turns out you're lying, I'm gonna spend every nickel of that money to fuck you up. I'm gonna bribe cops to go after you, I'm gonna pay guys to go after your weak fuckin' crew, and I'm gonna tell all the guys I know that you're a C.I. and a rat, and I know a lot of people. And after that, you're gonna wish you listened to me, 'cause your shitty pool hall crime syndicate headquarters is gonna get raided, and your doped-up bitches are gonna get sent back to Laos, and this fuckin' retard right here is gonna be testifying against you for a reduced sentence, while you're gettin' cornholed in your cell by a gang of crackers. 'Cause from what I've heard, the guys that get sent up Concord for killing kids, life's a motherfucker.
Cheese:
[points gun at Kenzie] You come 'round here again, and I'm gonna get discourteous on your ass.
Jake Sully:
Look, I know you probably don't undertstand this... but, thank you.
Neytiri:
[Ignores him and speaks in Na'vi]
Jake Sully:
Thank you.
Neytiri:
[Speaks in Na'vi]
Jake Sully:
That was pretty impressive. I would have been screwed if you hadn't come along. [Neytiri stands up and leaves. Jake follows her]
Jake Sully:
Hey, wait a second! Where are you going? Wait up! Just, hey, slow down! I just wanted to say thanks for killing those things... [Neytiri hits him with her bow]
Jake Sully:
AH!Damn!
Neytiri:
Don't thank. You don't thank for this! This is sad. Very sad only.
Jake Sully:
Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry.
Neytiri:
All this is your fault. They did not need to die.
Jake Sully:
My fault? They attacked me! How am I the bad guy?
Neytiri:
Your fault! Your fault.
Jake Sully:
Easy. Easy...
Neytiri:
You are like a baby. Making noise, don't know what to do.
Jake Sully:
Fine. If you loved your little forest friends... why not let them kill me? What's the thinking?
Neytiri:
Why save you?
Jake Sully:
Yeah, why save me?
Neytiri:
You have a strong heart. No fear. But stupid! Ignorant like a child! [Neytiri walks away and Jake follows after her]
Jake Sully:
Well, if I'm like a child, then maybe you should teach me.
Neytiri:
Sky People can not learn, you do not see.
Jake Sully:
Then teach me how to see.
Neytiri:
No one can teach you to see.
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
[Holding 3 guards at gun point, singing] Hello. Sweet Chariot, come to carry me home.
Cameron Poe:
What's going on here?
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
I just want to offer to the pigs.
Cameron Poe:
You can't.
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
Why not?
Cameron Poe:
Well, they're hostages, we need them.
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
[Points the gun at Poe] Why the fuck to you care?
Cameron Poe:
C'mon now. I can think of anything [Kicks the first guard]
Cameron Poe:
better, than putting a [Kicks the second guard]
Cameron Poe:
bullett, into the head of one of these [Kicks the third guard]
Cameron Poe:
fuckers. But you have to ask yourselfthis question. How well you know this Cindino? I don't know him that well myself. He has blown up his own yacht with 3 of his brothers on board. Now why would he eliminate his comerades after they have served their purpose, now think about that.
Cyrus Grissom:
[Coming in] What exactly are we discussing here?
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
Poe does not want me to offfer the pigs.
Cyrus Grissom:
[to Poe] Well, we can't actually stop Diamond Dog from doing this as this is own verision of penal lore. All I want to know how you care at all?
Cameron Poe:
Hey, Cyrus. It's your barbecue man, and it tastes good. I was just telling Mr. [Points to Diamond Dog]
Cameron Poe:
"Dog" here that if it was "my" barbecue, I would wait for that ol' jumbo jet in the sky bafore I start killing off the only leverage.
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
Shut the fuck up.
Cameron Poe:
You want to get high and get laid, shit.
Nathan 'Diamond Dog' Jones:
[Picks up a guard] Oh, fuck this.
Cyrus Grissom:
[Seeing Diamond Dog about to kill the guard] Put the gun down, Nathan. Poe's right. We're going to plan B. Wew're going to get a tractor and a fuel truck, get everybody here and we're going to dig the plane out. [Poe winks at Diamond Dog]
[seeking approval for the calendar at the National WI Conference]
Chris:
I'm about to commit heresy. Look, I hate plum jam. [laughter]
Chris:
I only joined the WI to make my mother happy. I do, I hate plum jam. I'm crap at cakes, I can't make sponge. In fact, seeing as it's unlikely that George Clooney would actually come to Skipton to do a talk on what it was like to be in "ER", there seems very little reason for me to actually stay in the WI. Except suddenly... suddenly I want to raise money in memory of a man I loved, and to do that I'm prepared to take me clothes off for a WI calendar, and if you can't give us ten minutes of your time, Madam Chairman, well then, frankly, guys, I'm going to do it without council approval. Because there are some things that are more important than council approval. And if it means that we get closer to killing off this shitty, cheating, sly, conniving bloody disease that cancer is, oh God, I tell you, I'd run round Skipton market naked, smeared in plum jam, wearing nothing but a knitted tea cosy on me head and singing "Jerusalem". [laughter]
Jack Friar:
[about to be executed] You think because you've already killed somebody, killing me's no big deal? You kill me and every cop on the planet's work takes a sudden vacation. You become the case that never closes, the guy they never stop hunting. You be job one. Pay attention Erin, 'cause this applies to you too. When they catch you, where ever they catch you, they're gonna subdue you. And they're gonna subdue you substantially. Then they're gonna tell you to run, and that's gonna confuse you, 'cause you never heard that before. Then your animal brain is gonna kick in with survival mode, telling you stupid shit like, hey, they're lettin' me go. So you'll run.
Tyrone:
And then what?
Jack Friar:
Then they shoot your dumb ass.
Blair Sullivan:
You're the first visitor I've had here in two years since them behavioral science boys come to see me. Wanna know about my childhood and shit. Did my folks beat me, abuse me, sex me up? I tried telling 'em there ain't no formula for people like me. What we are dealing with here is just predisposition for an appetite. Good parents, bad parents. No cause and effect. It's just appetite.
Paul Armstrong:
Fuck you.
Blair Sullivan:
[yelling] Let me tell you a few things, Armstrong! One, I'm filled with power! You might think I'm impotent prisoner, handcuffed and shackled, locked in a eight by seven cell each night and day, but I'm filled with strength that reaches way beyond these bars, sir! I can crush anyone I want to just as these hands dialing a telephone! There's no one beyond my reach! You hear me, no one!
Paul Armstrong:
Did you kill her?
Blair Sullivan:
I ain't gonna tell you if I killed that little girl or not. Even if I did, how would you know to believe me? Killing is easy for me. How hard do you think lying is?
Paul Armstrong:
Go to hell!
Blair Sullivan:
True. I will. No doubt about that!
[to an informer who is bound and gagged in a derelict flat]
Martin Cahill:
[genially but menacingly] Ah Jamey, Jamey, Jamey. You're an awful man, d'you know that? What did you have to go and shoot your mouth off to the Gards about me for? Did you think I wouldn't find out it was you? You know, I was thinking about killing you. And then I thought to myself, you know, sure, people get killed every day - and nobody gives a shite. So I've decided I'm going to have to hurt you a bit.
Jamey the Tout:
[mumbling through gag] Jesus, no!
Martin Cahill:
Actually, I'm going to hurt you an awful lot. But the good news is I'm going to do you myself. Oh yeah, personally. I mean, you don't want people thinking that just because I've got my name in the papers and all that, that Martin Cahill is too posh to do his own dirty work, now do you? [Cahill puts on gloves and picks up a knife]
Jamey the Tout:
[mumbling through gag] For fuck's sake!
Martin Cahill:
Take the gag out of his mouth. Let the little scumbag squeal - it's what he's good at, isn't it? [Out of shot, Jamey screams]
Sitting Bull:
You must take them out of our lands.
Col. Nelson Miles:
What precisely are your lands?
Sitting Bull:
These are the where my people lived before you whites first came.
Col. Nelson Miles:
I don't understand. We whites were not your first enemies. Why don't you demand back the land in Minnesota where the Chippewa and others forced you from years before?
Sitting Bull:
The Black Hills are a sacred given to my people by Wakan Tanka.
Col. Nelson Miles:
How very convenient to cloak your claims in spiritualism. And what would you say to the Mormons and others who believe that their God has given to them Indian lands in the West?
Sitting Bull:
I would say they should listen to Wakan Tanka.
Col. Nelson Miles:
No matter what your legends say, you didn't sprout from the plains like the spring grasses. And you didn't coalesce out of the ether. You came out of the Minnesota woodlands armed to the teeth and set upon your fellow man. You massacred the Kiowa, the Omaha, the Ponca, the Oto and the Pawnee without mercy. And yet you claim the Black Hills as a private preserve bequeathed to you by the Great Spirit.
Sitting Bull:
And who gave us the guns and powder to kill our enemies? And who traded weapons to the Chippewa and others who drove us from our home?
Col. Nelson Miles:
Chief Sitting Bull, the proposition that you were a peaceable people before the appearance of the white man is the most fanciful legend of all. You were killing each other for hundreds of moons before the first white stepped foot on this continent. You conquered those tribes, lusting for their game and their lands, just as we have now conquered you for no less noble a cause.
Sitting Bull:
This is your story of my people!
Col. Nelson Miles:
This is the truth, not legend. Crazy Horse has surrendered... with his entire band. And by his surrender, he says to you and your people that you are defeated. And by ceding the Black Hills to us, so say Red Cloud and the other chiefs, who demand that you end this war and take your place on the reservation.
Sitting Bull:
Red Cloud is no longer a chief. He is a woman you have mounted and had your way with. Do not speak to me of Red Cloud!
Thomas Devoe:
Doctor, you can run your charts and your theories all you want. In the field, this is how it works: the good guys, that's us, we chase the bad guys. And they don't wear black hats. They are, however, all alike: they demand power, and respect, and they're willing to pay top dollar to get it. And that is our highly motivated buyer.
Julia Kelly:
What about other motivations?
Thomas Devoe:
Not important to me.
Julia Kelly:
Whether it's important to you or not, there are people out there who don't care about money, who don't give a damn about respect. People who believe the killing of innocent men and women is justified. For them it is about rage, frustration, hatred... they feel pain and they're determined to share it with the world.
Thomas Devoe:
Okay, that does me no good. Now let's deal with the facts at hand. 23 hours ago, General Alexander Kodoroff stole ten nuclear warheads.
Julia Kelly:
He's just a delivery boy. I'm not afraid of the man who wants ten nuclear weapons, Colonel. I'm terrified of the man who only wants one.
George Carlin:
Human beings will do anything, anything. I am convinced. That's why when all those beheadings started in Iraq, it didn't bother me. A lot of people here were horrified, "Whaaaa, beheadings! Beheadings!" What, are you fucking surprised? Just one more form of extreme human behavior. Besides, who cares about some mercenary civilian contractor from Oklahoma who gets his head cut off? Fuck 'em. Hey Jack, you don't want to get your head cut off? Stay the fuck in Oklahoma. They ain't cuttin' off heads in Oklahoma, far as I know. But I do know this: you strap on a gun and go struttin' around some other man's country, you'd better be ready for some action, Jack. People are touchy about that sort of thing. And let me ask you this... this is a moral question, not rhetorical, I'm looking for the answer: what is the moral difference between cuttin' off one guy's head, or two, or three, or five, or ten - and dropping a big bomb on a hospital and killing a whole bunch of sick kids? Has anybody in authority given you an explanation of the difference? Now, in case you're wondering why I have a certain interest, or fascination let's call it, with torture and beheadings and all of those things I have mentioned, is because each of these items reminds me in life over and over again what beasts we human beings really are. When you get right down to it, human beings are nothing more than ordinary jungle beasts. Savages. No different from the Cro Magnon people who lived twenty five thousand years ago. No different. Our DNA hasn't changed substantially in a hundred thousand years. We're still operating out of the lower brain. The reptilian brain. Fight or flight. Kill or be killed. We like to think we've evolved and advanced because we can build a computer, fly an airplane, travel underwater, we can write a sonnet, paint a painting, compose an opera. But you know something? We're barely out of the jungle on this planet. Barely out of the fucking jungle. What we are, is semi-civilized beasts, with baseball caps and automatic weapons.
[Matheson kills Budlofsky for refusing to refusing to shoot Saul when he had the chance]
Matheson:
I knew you were going soft. Dinner's gonna be cold tonight, asshole!
Saul:
Fucked up, man.
Matheson:
[Points his gun at Saul] Well looky here, Mr. Forges. Wussup, Saul?
Saul:
Look, I didn't want to hit you, man...
Matheson:
SHUT THE FUCK UP! You think you was gonna get me, motherfucker? Huh? You need to set your little sexy ass down and watch yourself get killed now!
Saul:
Alright! You know what, if this is how it's gonna be, alright. Silence! [Red drives his car into the barn, killing Matheson]
Harper Pitt:
I wish I could go traveling. Things aren't right with me. [Harper opens cabinet door in bathroom to remove pill container. She closes the door which reveals Mr. Lie's reflection in the mirror. She gasps. ]
Mr. Lies:
Cash, check, or credit card?
Harper Pitt:
You startled me.
Mr. Lies:
Cash, check, or...
Harper Pitt:
I remember you. You're from Salt Lake. You sold us the plane tickets when we flew here. What are you doing in Brooklyn?
Mr. Lies:
You said you wanted to travel.
Harper Pitt:
How thoughtful!
Mr. Lies:
Mr. Lies of the International Order of Travel Agents. We mobilize the globe. We set people adrift. We are adepts of motion, acolytes of the flocks. Cash, check, or credit card, name your destination.
Harper Pitt:
Antartica, maybe? I want to see the hole in the ozone. I heard on the radio...
Mr. Lies:
We'll arrange a guided tour. Now?
Harper Pitt:
Soon, maybe soon. I'm not safe here, you see. Weird stuff happens.
Mr. Lies:
Like?
Harper Pitt:
Like you, for instance. Just appearing. Or last week. Well, nevermind. People are like planets, you need a thick skin. Joe stays away and now, well look, my dreams are talking back to me.
Mr. Lies:
The price of rootlessness, motion sickness. Only cure, keep moving.
Harper Pitt:
I'm undecided. I feel that something's going to give. It's 1985... fifteen years to the third millennium. Maybe Christ will come again or maybe the troubles will and the end will come. And the sky will collapse and there'll be terrible rain and showers of poison light. Or maybe my life is really fine... maybe Joe loves me and I'm only crazy thinking otherwise. Or maybe not. Maybe it's even worse than I know. Maybe I want to know, maybe I don't. The suspense, Mr. Lies, it's killing me.
Mr. Lies:
I suggest a vacation.
Mick:
Anton it's killing me to see me to see you this stressed out man. You cut off your hand in the interest of who knows how many others. So, what I want you to do is take a little Anton time. Okay just relax, kick back my man.
Anton:
No, no, no, you know what? Not this time. Okay I'm through with that, I mean all I do is I sit around all day I veg out, I watch TV, I smoke pot ...
Mick:
No, no, no, no Kevin Costner speeches okay? Let's just go.
