1:59PM, Oct 23, 2008
Blood Simple
Ray: If you point a gun at someone, you'd better make sure you shoot him, and if you shoot him you'd better make sure he's dead, because if he isn't then he's gonna get up and try to kill you.
Marty: I got a job for you.
Private Detective Visser: Uh, well, if the pay's right, and it's legal, I'll do it.
Marty: It's not strictly legal.
Private Detective Visser: (Thinks for a moment) Well, if the pay's right, I'll do it.
Raising Arizona
H.I.: Sometimes it's a hard world for small things.
H.I.: We figured there was too much happiness here for just the two of us, so we figured the next logical step was to have us a critter.
Evelle: (Regarding his new balloons) These blow up into funny shapes and all?
Grocer: Well no... unless round is funny.
Miller's Crossing
Tom Reagan: All in all not a bad guy - if looks, brains and personality don't count.
Verna: You better hope they don't.
Eddie Dane: How'd you get the fat lip?
Tom Reagan: Old war wound. Acts up around morons.
Verna: Maybe that's why I like you, Tom. I've never met anyone who made being a son of a bitch such a point of pride.
Barton Fink
Jack Lipnick: We're only interested in one thing, Bart. Can you tell a story? Can you make us laugh? Can you make us cry? Can you make us want to break out in joyous song? Is that more than one thing? Okay!
W.P. Mayhew: Me I just enjoy making things up. Yessah escape. Its when I can't write I can't escape myself, I want to rip my head off and run screaming down the street with my balls in a fruit pickers pail.
The Hudsucker Proxy
Norville: You know, for kids.
Amy Archer: I used to think you were a swell guy. Well, to be honest, I thought you were an imbecile. But then I figured out you WERE a swell guy... A little slow, maybe, but a swell guy. Well, maybe you're not so slow, But you're not so swell either. And it looks like you're an imbecile after all!"
(Norville's sorting post into boxes)
Norville: What do you do if the envelope is too big for the slot?
Ancient Sorter: Well, if you fold 'em, they fire you. I usually throw 'em out.
Fargo
Marge Gunderson: I'm not sure I agree with you a hundred percent on your police work, there, Lou...
(Marge interviews the two hookers whose clients are the suspects)
Hooker No. 1: Well, the little guy was kinda funny-lookin'.
Marge Gunderson: In what way?
Hooker No. 1: I dunno... just funny-lookin'.
Marge Gunderson: Can you be any more specific?
Hooker No. 1: I couldn't really say... He wasn't circumcised.
Marge Gunderson: Was he funny lookin' apart from that?
Hooker No. 1: Yah...
Marge Gunderson: So, you were havin' sex with the little fellow, then.
Hooker No. 1: Uh huh...
The Big Lebowski
Maude Lebowski: What do you do for recreation?
The Dude: Oh, the usual. I bowl. Drive around. The occasional acid flashback.
The Dude: That rug really tied the room together.
Jesus Quintana: You might fool the f**ks in the league office, but you don't fool Jesus. This bush league psyche-out stuff. Laughable, man - ha ha! I would have f**ked you in the ass Saturday. I f**k you in the ass next Wednesday instead. Wooo! You got a date Wednesday, baby!
The Dude: Jesus.
Jesus Quintana: You said it, man. Nobody f**ks with the Jesus.
The Dude: Let me explain something to you. Um, I am not "Mr. Lebowski". You're Mr. Lebowski. I'm the Dude. So that's what you call me. You know, that or, uh, His Dudeness, or uh, Duder, or El Duderino if you're not into the whole brevity thing.
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Pappy O'Daniel: It seems that Mr. Stokes has a grudge against the Soggy Bottom Boys, on account of their rough and rowdy past. Seems, Mr. Stokes is the kind of fella who wants to cast the first stone. Well, I'm with you folks. I'm a forgiving, Christian sort of man. And I say, if their rambunctiousness, and misdemeanoring, is behind them...
Pappy O'Daniel: It is, ain't it, boys?
Ulysses Everett McGill: Uh, yes sir, it is.
Ulysses Everett McGill: Me an' the old lady are gonna pick up the pieces and retie the knot, mixaphorically speaking.
Ulysses Everett McGill: Hold on, I don't want this pomade. I want Dapper Dan.
Pomade Vendor: I don't carry Dapper Dan, I carry Fop.
Ulysses Everett McGill: Well, I don't want Fop, goddamn it! I'm a Dapper Dan man!
Pomade Vendor: Watch your language, young feller, this is a public market. Now if you want Dapper Dan, I can order it for you, have it in a couple of weeks.
Ulysses Everett McGill: Well, ain't this place a geographical oddity. Two weeks from everywhere!
The Man Who Wasn't There
Ed Crane: (reminiscing about their first date) It was only a couple weeks later she suggested getting married. I said, "Don't you want to get to know me more?" She said, "Why? Does it get better?" She looked at me like I was a dope, which I never really minded from her. And she had a point, I guess. We knew each other as well then as now. Anyway, well enough.
Ed Crane: "Time slows down right before an accident, and I had time to think about things. I thought about what an undertaker had told me once - that your hair keeps growing, for a while anyway, after you die, and then it stops. I thought, "What keeps it growing? Is it like a plant in soil? What goes out of the soil? The soul? And when does the hair realise that it's gone?"
Intolerable Cruelty
Rex: My wife has me between a rock and a hard place.
Miles Massey: That's her job. You should respect that.
Miles Massey: So you propose, that in spite demonstrable infidelity on your part, your unoffending wife should be tossed out on her ear.
Rex: Is it possible?
Miles Massey: It's a challenge.
Marylin Rexroth: I've invested five good years in my marriage to Rex and I've nailed his ass fair and square. Now I'm going to have it stuffed, mounted, and have my lady friends come over and throw darts at it.
The Ladykillers
Waffle Hut Waitress: Have you all decided?
Professor G.H. Dorr: Madam, we must have waffles! We must all have waffles forthwith! We must all think, and we must all have waffles, and think each and every one of us to the very best of his ability...
Preacher: I smite, you smite, he smites, we done smote!
Marva Munson: This is a Christian house, boy. No hippity-hop language in here.
No Country for Old Men
Llewelyn Moss: If I don't come back, tell mother I love her.
Carla Jean Moss: Your mother's dead, Llewelyn.
Llewelyn Moss: Well then I'll tell her myself.
Wendell: It's a mess, ain't it, sheriff?
Ed Tom Bell: If it ain't, it'll do till the mess gets here.
Ed Tom Bell: Here last week they found this couple out in California. They rent out rooms for old people, kill'em, bury'em in the yard, cash their social security checks. Well, they'd tortur'em first, I don't know why. Maybe the television set was broke.
