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Butters Stotch: Well yeah, and I'm sad, but at the same time I'm really happy that something could make me feel that sad. It's like, it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. And the only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt somethin' really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good, so I guess what I'm feelin' is like a, beautiful sadness. I guess that sounds stupid.
 
The Hottest State

William: Oh fuck you! You're a spoiled, selfish - cold coward.
I've told people to fuck off, and I know how important you feel.
I've been you, and I know that you suck!
 
“Nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates melancholy from happiness.”- Orlando (1992)

“At least you’ll never be a vegetable … even artichokes have hearts.”- Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain (2001)

"We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented.”- The Truman Show (1998)

“Monday, we burn Miller … Tuesday, Tolstoy … Wednesday, Walt Whitman … Friday, Faulkner … and Saturday and Sunday, Schopenhauer and Sartre. We burn them to ashes and then burn the ashes. That’s our official motto.”- Fahrenheit 451 (1966)

“It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”- Fight Club (1999)
 
THE USUAL SUSPECTS

Dave Kujan: Do you believe in him, Verbal?
Verbal: Keaton always said, "I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him." Well I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.

и ова од истиот филм

suspects in a lineup are asked to read a phrase
Interrogation Cop: Number 1, step forward.
Hockney: Hand me the keys, you fucking cocksucker.
Interrogation Cop: Number 2, step forward.
McManus: Give me the fucking keys, you fucking cocksucking motherfucker, aaarrrghh.
Interrogation Cop: Knock it off. Get back. Number 3, step forward.
Fenster: [laughing] Hand me the keys, you cocksucker.
Interrogation Cop: In English, please?
Fenster: Excuse me?
Interrogation Cop: In English.
Fenster: Hand me the fucking keys, you cocksucker, what the fuck?
 
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Филм: Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

Bacon: What's that?
Samoan Joe's Barman: It's a cocktail. You asked for a cocktail.
Bacon: No. I asked you to give me a refreshing drink. I wasn't expecting a fucking rainforest! You could fall in love with an orangutan in that!
Samoan Joe's Barman: You want a pint, you go to the pub.
Bacon: I thought this was a pub!
Samoan Joes Barman: It's a Samoan pub.
 
V for Vendetta

Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.
 
"For all those who live to see such times, it's not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do, with the time that is given to you."
LOTR
 
THX 1138

SEN 5241: [kneeling in a studio before a large image of OMM]
Things dont seem to make sense. Sometimes I see things get left out,
and... they dont fit. People dont seem to see them. Or they dont
know what to do. Sometimes I...Sometimes a little... a little
adjustment... can make all the difference. I wanna do the
right thing. I wanna go back. I...I... I can s... I can start again.
I can... change. I can... I can help. I just need a... need to rest
up for a little while.

 
Amelie:

"I like to look for things no one else catches. I hate the way drivers never look at the road in old American movies."

Hipolito:

"Without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's."
 
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Skinny, socially privileged white people get to draw this neat little circle. And everyone inside the circle is "normal". Anyone outside the circle needs to be beaten, broken and reset so that they can be brought into the circle. Failing that, they should be institutionalized. Or even worse – Pitied
 
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Bullet Tooth Tony: So, you are obviously the big dick. The men on the side of ya are your balls. Now there are two types of balls. There are big brave balls, and there are little mincey faggot balls.
Vinny: These are your last words, so make them a prayer.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Now, dicks have drive and clarity of vision, but they are not clever. They smell pussy and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old pussy, and have brought your two little mincey faggot balls along for a good old time. But you've got your parties muddled up. There's no pussy here, just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman. Like a prick, you are having second thoughts. You are shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with you. And the fact that you've got "Replica" written down the side of your guns...
[Zoom in on the side of Sol's gun, which indeed has "REPLICA" etched on the side; zoom out, as they sneak peeks at the sides of their guns]
Bullet Tooth Tony: And the fact that I've got "Desert Eagle point five O"...
[Withdraws his gun and puts it on the table]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Written down the side of mine...
[They look, zoom in on the side of his gun, which indeed has "DESERT EAGLE .50" etched on the side]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now... Fuck off!

Snatch.
 
New York , Synecdoche

Minister: Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.
 
Maggot: Let me at him! Let me at him! Don't hold me back!
Elder Gutknecht: Wait! We must abide by their rules! We are amongst the living.
Barkis Bittern: Well said. [drinks potion]
Maggot: [after Lord Barkis drinks potion] Not any more!
Elder Gutknecht: Yep. You're right. He's all yours.
Corpse Bride​

John: Who's this?
Boris Yellnikoff: Who are *you*?
Melodie St. Ann Celestine: This is Boris, my husband.
John: Boris your who?
Melodie St. Ann Celestine: He's my husband, I'm Mrs. Boris Yellnikoff.
John: Who are you?
Boris Yellnikoff: I'm her husband. You want to pass out here, or go into the living room.

Boris Yellnikoff: The human race. They've had to install automatic toilets in public restrooms, because people can't be entrusted to flush a toilet.

Boris Yellnikoff: Love, despite what they tell you, does not conquer all, nor does it even usually last. In the end the romantic aspirations of our youth are reduced to, whatever works.
Whatever Works​

Mort: You know, the only thing that matters is the ending. It's the most important part of the story, the ending. And this one... is very good. This one's perfect.
Secret Window​
 
napoleon-dynamite-trisha.jpg

Trisha: I wanted to thank you for the beautiful drawing you did of me.
[through gritted teeth]
Trisha: It's hanging in my *bedroom*.
Napoleon Dynamite: Really? It took me like three hours to finish the shading on your upper lip. It's probably the best drawing I've ever done.
Trisha: Yeah... it's really... neat.
 
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