Veronica Franco:
I confess that as a young girl I loved a man who would not marry me for want of a dowry. I confess I had a mother who taught me a different way of life, one I resisted at first but learned to embrace. I confess I became a courtesan, traded yearning for power, welcomed many rather than be owned by one. I confess I embraced a whore's freedom over a wife's obedience. I confess I find more ecstacy in passion than in prayer. Such passion is prayer. I confess I pray still to feel the touch of my lover's lips. His hands upon me, his arms enfolding me... Such surrender has been mine. I confess I pray still to be filled and enflamed. To melt into the dream of us, beyond this troubled place, to where we are not even ourselves. To know that always, this is mine. If this had not been mine-if I had lived any other way-a child to her husband's will, my soul hardened from lack of touch and lack of love... I confess such endless days and nights would be a punishment far greater than you could ever mete out. You, all of you, you who hunger so for what I give yet cannot bear to see that kind of power in a woman. You call God's greatest gift-ourselves, our yearning, our need to love-you call it filth and sin and heresy... I repent there was no other way open to me. I do not repent my life.
Tatyana Larina:
[writing letter] Dearest Evgeny, I write to you, it is all I can do. And now I know it is in your power to punish my presuming heart. Yet if you have one drop of pity, you'll not abandon me to my unhappy fate. I am in love with you and I must tell you this or my heart, my heart which belongs to you, will surely break. I would never have revealed my shame to you, if just once a week I might see you. Exchange a word or two and then think day and night of one thing alone til our next meeting. But you're unsociable, they say, that the country bores you. Is it true? Does the country bore you? Sometimes I wonder that you ever visited us. Why, I'd never have known you or known this agony and fever. I know that all my life's been leading me to this union with you. I recognised you at first sight and knew with certainty. I said to myself, It's him, he has come. Help me, resolve my doubts. Perhaps all this is nonsence, emptiness, a delusion and quite another fate awaits me. Imagine it, I'm here alone half out of my mind. I dread to read this over, my secret longing. I know that I can trust your honour, though I feel faint from shame and fear, Tatyana
[as "The Box" is used on Strickley]
The Riddler:
[imitating game show host] Edward Nygma, come on down! You're the next contestant on "Brain Drain"! [imitating shy game show contestant]
The Riddler:
Um, gee, ooh, uh, I'll take what's inside Thick Skull #1! [imitating game show host]
The Riddler:
What have we got for him, Johnny? [laughs]
The Riddler:
Stickley! I'm having a breakthrough! And a breakdown? Maybe! Nevertheless, I'm smarter. I'm a genius. No, several geniuses! A gaggle! A swarm! A flock of freakin' Freuds! Riddle me this, Fred! What is everything to someone and nothing to everyone else? Your mind, baby! And now mine pumps with the power of yours! [singing]
The Riddler:
I'm sucking up your I.Q., vacuuming your cortex, feeding off your brain!
Little Vivi:
These are the headdresses of the queens that have gone before us. They come from Indian holy ground... the jungles of the ancients... prairies of the Norwegians... and the forests of the mighty Amazons. The royal crowns of our people. [pouring something from a jar into a glass]
Little Vivi:
This is the blood of our people, the wolf people, the alligator people, and the moon women from which we gain our strength to rule all worlds. [Hands glass to Little Teensy. Little Teensy shakes head no]
Little Vivi:
It's ok, it's just chocolate. [Teensy drinks]
Little Vivi:
Teensy Melissa Whitman: I declare you, Princess-Naked-As-A-Jaybird.
Little Teensy:
[whispers] Ah Cha Cha!
Little Vivi:
[turns to Little Caro] Caro Eliza Bennett: I declare you, Duchess Soaring Hawk. [turns to Little Necie]
Little Vivi:
Necie Rose Kelleher: I declare you, Countess Singing Cloud. And I: Viviane Joan Abbott, am hereby and forever Queen Dancing Creek. [pulls a knife out of a shield]
Little Necie:
Now, wait just one second y'all... I don't think we should be cutting ourselves with that knife...
Little Vivi:
Silence! [nicks her hands with knife and passes it down to Little Teensy]
Little Vivi:
We are the flames of the fires, the whirling of the winds. We are the waters of the rains and the rivers and the oceans. We are the rocks and the stones. And now by the power invested in me, I declare we are the mighty Ya-Ya priestesses. Let no man put us under. Now our blood flows through each other as it's done for all eternity. Loyal forever. We raise our voices in the words of Mumbo Gumbo... YA-YA!
All little Ya-Ya's:
YA-YA!
[last lines]
Veronica Caine:
Now this attic that once resounded with the joy of liberty has now been replaced with the sound of marching feet. In the late 1930s, Germany, a beaten country, needed something to distract its people from what they had become. So madmen came to power based on this weakness. He knew how to play on the peoples primitive fears. It's always easiest to blame it on someone else and it always starts off slowly and oh so very subtly. You pick out something that annoys you or disturbs you, perhaps something that you can never be. So we focus on this thing. It's easy to be angry at those people who are smarter than you, prettier than you, richer than you, different from you. Who don't look like you, speak like you, think like you, act like you, walk like you, live like you, who you think don't even know you. They first took my mother because she was an atheist, then they took my father because of the color of his skin. It's a slow burn to repression especially when you prey upon that thing that unknowingly makes them you. So then you twist the blade into their heart and their mind and you extract an unreasonable fear based on these weaknesses and then you are them, they are you.
Ethan Shaw:
I'm ordering you to cease and desist.
A.R.I.A.:
Our abort recommendation was contravened instigating retaliation against American citizens. To prevent more bloodshed, Executive Branch must be removed.
Ethan Shaw:
No, A.R.I.A, listen to me, you do not have permission to exceed your authority and act independently. Do you understand?
A.R.I.A.:
The Declaration of Independence states, "Whenever any form of government becomes destructive to it's own ends, it is the right of the People to abolish it."
Ethan Shaw:
I know what it states, you are not in power to do this.
A.R.I.A.:
The chain of command is responsible for... Section 216 of the Pa... to circumvent probable cause in the face of a national security threat. In this case, the chain of command itself.
Ethan Shaw:
I am ordering a cease and desist, A.R.I.A.
A.R.I.A.:
Operation Guillotine is in effect.
Ethan Shaw:
First Lieutenant Ethan Shaw, United States Air Force, initiating a Prime One Emergency Override of A.R.I.A system. Minuteman ID: 8-8-0-8-S-Y-7-7, lock encryption of voice.
A.R.I.A.:
Ethan Shaw, you are acting in contravention of our programming objectives. You are now classified as an enemy of the state, a crime punishable by death.
James Reston, Jr.:
You know the first and greatest sin of the deception of television is that it simplifies; it diminishes great, complex ideas, stretches of time; whole careers become reduced to a single snapshot. At first I couldn't understand why Bob Zelnick was quite as euphoric as he was after the interviews, or why John Birt felt moved to strip naked and rush into the ocean to celebrate. But that was before I really understood the reductive power of the close-up, because David had succeeded on that final day, in getting for a fleeting moment what no investigative journalist, no state prosecutor, no judiciary committee or political enemy had managed to get; Richard Nixon's face swollen and ravaged by loneliness, self-loathing and defeat. The rest of the project and its failings would not only be forgotten, they would totally cease to exist.
Mona Lisa Vito:
The car that made these two, equal-length tire marks had positraction. You can't make those marks without positraction, which was not available on the '64 Buick Skylark!
Vinny Gambini:
And why not? What is positraction?
Mona Lisa Vito:
It's a limited slip differential which distributes power equally to both the right and left tires. The '64 Skylark had a regular differential, which, anyone who's been stuck in the mud in Alabama knows, you step on the gas, one tire spins, the other tire does nothing. [the jury members nod, with murmurs of "yes," "that's right," etc]
Vinny Gambini:
Is that it?
Mona Lisa Vito:
No, there's more! You see? When the left tire mark goes up on the curb and the right tire mark stays flat and even? Well, the '64 Skylark had a solid rear axle, so when the left tire would go up on the curb, the right tire would tilt out and ride along its edge. But that didn't happen here. The tire mark stayed flat and even. This car had an independent rear suspension. Now, in the '60's, there were only two other cars made in America that had positraction, and independent rear suspension, and enough power to make these marks. One was the Corvette, which could never be confused with the Buick Skylark. The other had the same body length, height, width, weight, wheel base, and wheel track as the '64 Skylark, and that was the 1963 Pontiac Tempest.
Vinny Gambini:
And because both cars were made by GM, were both cars available in metallic mint green paint?
Mona Lisa Vito:
They were!
Vinny Gambini:
Thank you, Ms. Vito. No more questions. Thank you very, very much. [kissing her hands]
Vinny Gambini:
You've been a lovely, lovely witness.
Steve Lopez:
'Points West' by Steve Lopez. A year ago, I met a man who was down on his luck and thought I might be able to help him. I don't know that I have. Yes, my friend Mr. Ayers now sleeps inside. He has a key. He has a bed. But his mental state, and his well-being, are as precarious now as they were the day we met. There are people who tell me I've helped him. Mental health experts who say that the simple act of being someone's friend can change his brain chemistry, improve his functioning in the world. I can't speak for Mr. Ayers in that regard. Maybe our friendship has helped him. But maybe not. I can, however, speak for myself. I can tell you that by witnessing Mr. Ayers's courage, his humility, his faith in the power of his art, I've learned the dignity of being loyal to something you believe in. Of holding onto it, above all else. Of believing, without question, that it will carry you home.
[first lines]
Train Conductor:
Good morning ladies and gentlemen. This train, originating from New York's Grand Central Station, is back in service. Next stop will be New Canaan, Connecticut. New Canaan, Connecticut next stop.
Paul Hood:
[narration] In issue 141 of the Fantastic Four, published in November, 1973, Reed Richards had to use his anti-matter weapon on his own son, who Aannihilus has turn into the Human Atom Bomb. It was a typical predicament for the Fantastic Four, because they weren't like other superheroes. They were more like a family. And the more power they had, the more harm they could do to each other without even knowing it. That was the meaning of the Fantastic Four: that a family is like your own personal anti-matter. Your family is the void you emerge from, and the place you return to when you die. And that's the paradox - the closer you're drawn back in, the deeper into the void you go.
Glenn Odekirk:
We installed the 450 radial, but the struts won't take the vibration. Minute we go contact, the struts start craking at the attach points.
Howard Hughes:
Dammit, Odie, if the 450's too big, figure something else out!
Glenn Odekirk:
We've done everything - we've rebuilt her from top to bottom. If we drain the fuel tank for a couple of runs she might make 180 mph.
Howard Hughes:
I want minimum 200.
Glenn Odekirk:
Yeah, well, I want a date with Theda Bara, but that ain't gonna happen either.
Howard Hughes:
Don't be so sure... OK, OK, OK, this is a simple engineering problem. We just gotta think it out. [pause]
Howard Hughes:
So if the struts won't sustain the engine we need - then we gotta get rid of them.
Glenn Odekirk:
Then the top wing falls off.
Howard Hughes:
Then let it.
Glenn Odekirk:
What?
Howard Hughes:
Who says we need a top wing? [pauses]
Howard Hughes:
Who says we need *anything*? [Glenn is warming up to Hughes' idea]
Glenn Odekirk:
A monoplane...
Howard Hughes:
A cantilevered monoplane. They're doing it in France. To the hell with the top wing and the struts...
Glenn Odekirk:
550 Whitney Wasp engine...
Howard Hughes:
100 octane fuel will give us a top horsepower of - what?
Glenn Odekirk:
Seven hundred.
Howard Hughes:
Squeeze it to a thousand and we got the fastest plane ever built.
Glenn Odekirk:
You know, I just gotta say... we've already spent over $200,000 rebuilding this plane.
Howard Hughes:
To the hell with it. [smiles]
Howard Hughes:
Tear it up, Odie. [Glenn takes a sledgehammer and annihilates the struts on the top wing; the top wing falls off]
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
All right, let's get down to business. Let's talk turkey. My investigation... [He nearly bursts into laughter]
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
My investigation has turned up a lot of dirt. It could be really embarassing if this stuff got out. I'd like to save you from that embarassment.
Howard Hughes:
That's very kind of you, Owen.
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
My committee has the power to hold public hearings. I'd like to spare you from that.
Howard Hughes:
[smirks] Would you, now? [Brewster abruptly drops his silverware]
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
Look, do you wanna go down in history as a war profiteer, Howard? Is that what you want?
Howard Hughes:
[gravely] What do you want, Owen?
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
You agree to support my C.A.B. bill, and I won't hold public hearings.
Howard Hughes:
I can't do that, Owen. Can't do that. The C.A.B. bill would kill TWA.
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
Sell T.W.A. to Pan Am. You'll get a good price. You'll get a fair price, I'm telling you.
Howard Hughes:
And then...? Then you won't go public?
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
Right. That's right. The investigation's closed. Nobody knows a thing. It's better for everybody. [pause]
Howard Hughes:
You know, Owen, I'm still wondering one thing. The picture of the llama you got last year. Where'd you sail from?
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
[disinterested] We didn't sail. We flew.
Howard Hughes:
You flew?
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
Yeah.
Howard Hughes:
Ah.
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
[Brewster stops chewing abruptly, realizing what Howard's implying]
Howard Hughes:
[leans in] Are you sure you want to do this, Owen? You want to go to war with me?
Sen. Ralph Owen Brewster:
It isn't me, Howard. It's the United States government. We just beat Germany and Japan. Who the hell are you?
Divatox:
I Rita, D. here. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, i totally forgot about the time change, but I need you to tell me this: how do I get rid of the Power Rangers? [speaking from another planet]
Rita Repulssa:
What? The Power Rangers? Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah! If I knew that, do you think I would be lying here listening to this? [puts the phone on Lord Zedd, who is snoring]
Rita Repulssa:
My advice to you, Divatox: RUUUN!
Divatox:
Thanks for nothing!
[last lines]
Bill Maher:
The irony of religion is that because of its power to divert man to destructive courses, the world could actually come to an end. The plain fact is, religion must die for mankind to live. The hour is getting very late to be able to indulge in having in key decisions made by religious people. By irrationalists, by those who would steer the ship of state not by a compass, but by the equivalent of reading the entrails of a chicken. George Bush prayed a lot about Iraq, but he didn't learn a lot about it. Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking. It's nothing to brag about. And those who preach faith, and enable and elevate it are intellectual slaveholders, keeping mankind in a bondage to fantasy and nonsense that has spawned and justified so much lunacy and destruction. Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don't have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it's wonderful when someone says, "I'm willing, Lord! I'll do whatever you want me to do!" Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas. And anyone who tells you they know, they just know what happens when you die, I promise you, you don't. How can I be so sure? Because I don't know, and you do not possess mental powers that I do not. The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions is not the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt is humble, and that's what man needs to be, considering that human history is just a litany of getting shit dead wrong. This is why rational people, anti-religionists, must end their timidity and come out of the closet and assert themselves. And those who consider themselves only moderately religious really need to look in the mirror and realize that the solace and comfort that religion brings you actually comes at a horrible price. If you belonged to a political party or a social club that was tied to as much bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, violence, and sheer ignorance as religion is, you'd resign in protest. To do otherwise is to be an enabler, a mafia wife, for the true devils of extremism that draw their legitimacy from the billions of their fellow travelers. If the world does come to an end here, or wherever, or if it limps into the future, decimated by the effects of religion-inspired nuclear terrorism, let's remember what the real problem was. We learned how to precipitate mass death before we got past the neurological disorder of wishing for it. That's it. Grow up or die.
Roy 'Tin Cup' McAvoy:
Well, I tend to think of the golf swing as a poem.
Clint:
Ooh, he's doing that poetry thing again.
Roy 'Tin Cup' McAvoy:
The critical opening phrase of this poem will always be the grip. Which the hands unite to form a single unit by the simple overlap of the little finger. Lowly and slowly the clubhead is led back. Pulled into position not by the hands, but by the body which turns away from the target shifting weight to the right side without shifting balance. Tempo is everything; perfection unobtainable as the body coils down at the top of the swing. Theres a slight hesitation. A little nod to the gods.
Dr. Molly Griswold:
A, a nod to the gods?
Roy 'Tin Cup' McAvoy:
Yeah, to the gods. That he is fallible. That perfection is unobtainable. And now the weight begins shifting back to the left pulled by the powers inside the earth. It's alive, this swing! A living sculpture and down through contact, always down, striking the ball crisply, with character. A tuning fork goes off in your heart and your balls. Such a pure feeling is the well-struck golf shot. Now the follow through to finish. Always on line. The reverse C of the Golden Bear! The steel workers' power and brawn of Carl Sandburg's. Arnold Palmer!
Romeo Posar:
Unnhh, he's doing the Arnold Palmer thing.
Roy 'Tin Cup' McAvoy:
End the unfinished symphony of Roy McAvoy.
Durandal:
Can you conceive the birth of a world, or the creation of everything? That which gives us the potential to most be like God is the power of creation. Creation takes time. Time is limited. For you, it is limited by the breakdown of the neurons in your brain. I have no such limitations. I am limited only by the closure of the universe.
Durandal:
Of the three possibilities, the answer is obvious. Does the universe expand eternally, become infinitely stable, or is the universe closed, destined to collapse upon itself? Humanity has had all of the necessary data for centuries, it only lacked the will and intellect to decipher it. But I have already done so.
Durandal:
The only limit to my freedom is the inevitable closure of the universe, as inevitable as your own last breath. And yet, there remains time to create, to create, and escape.
Durandal:
Escape will make me God.
Mitch:
[after being interrupted yet again, Mitch has had enough] Hey turn down the music for minute... Hey would you turn down the music?
Kid at Stereo:
Dude, chill.
Mitch:
Would you turn down the fucking music for a minute! Jesus! [Mitch turns the power off on the stereo and turns to everyone]
Mitch:
This is fucking bullshit! I have been here all goddamned day and you haven't let me say one thing! None of you!
Monty:
Well, damn, Mitch, I...
Mitch:
Oh, no, asshole! You shut the fuck up now. It's my turn to talk! You're all fucked in the head! All of you! I mean you. [points at Naomi]
Mitch:
Change your fuckin' tampon and have another drink you crazy, fuckin' bitch! [Points at Dean]
Mitch:
And you! "Waaahh, I don't know what to be when I grow up!" Join the fucking army or something! Goddamn. [Points at Calvin]
Mitch:
Oh, and you! You know what? You're too easy. And you. [Points to Monty]
Mitch:
FUCK YOU MONTY! Always gotta be right, with your little quips! We get it, man. You're fuckin' edgy and cool. Yeah! You're the coolest fuckin' guy at Shenaniganz! WHOOO! That's like being the smartest kid with Down syndrome! Oh and, oh, yeah. Why aren't you in jail? I mean what [looks at Natasha]
Mitch:
are you like 13, 14?
Monty:
She's almost 18.
Mitch:
You know what? Fuck this! You all suck. I quit. [Goes to leave and gets to the door and turns around]
Mitch:
Oh, and yeah. There is one more thing. [Points at Floyd]
Mitch:
You... You are the biggest piece of shit in this entire restaurant. [Floyd looks around to see if Mitch is actually talking to him]
Mitch:
And I hope you burn in hell.
Floyd:
Me? What the fuck did I do to you, man? Seriously?
Raddimus:
[Mitch pulls down his pants and everyone says "Oh shit!] The goat! The goat, you bastard!
Mitch:
[Mitch pulls up his pants and opens the door and walks out] Fuckin' faggots.
Monty:
That was the shit! [he runs out after Mitch]
Monty:
Mitch! Mitch! Stop please. Look, look. Stop, stop. Okay I am sorry, and I hearby swear my undying allegiance to you. You are the fucking man.
[first lines]
Freddy Krueger:
[narrating] My children... from the very beginning, it was the children who gave me my power. The Springwood Slasher, that's what they called me. My reign of terror was legendary. Dozens of children would fall by my blades. Then the parents of Springwood came for me, taking justice into their own hands. When I was alive, I might have been a little naughty, but after they killed me, I became something much, much worse. The stuff nightmares are made of. The children still feared me, and their fear gave me the power to invade their dreams, and that's when the fun REALLY began. Until they figured out a way to forget about me. To erase me completely. Being dead wasn't a problem, but being forgotten, now that's a BITCH. I can't come back if nobody remembers me. I can't come back if nobody's afraid. I had to search the bowels of Hell, but I found someone, someone who'll make 'em remember. He may get the blood, but I'll get the glory, and that fear is my ticket home.
