There is soooo many but here is my all time favorite exchange. From Good Will Hunting.
Sean: So what do you really want to do? Will: I wanna be a shepherd. Sean: Really. Will: I wanna move up to Nashua, get a nice little spread, get some sheep and tend to them. Sean: Maybe you should go do that.
Last Edit: Jun 11, 2011 14:40:27 GMT -5 by jamscape
"And I want to look him straight in the eye, and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, (tasteless), overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey sh** he is! Hallelujah! Holy sh**! Where's the Tylenol?"
"Dang! You got shocks, pegs... lucky! You ever take it off any sweet jumps? " - Napoleon Dynamite
Bob Slydell: You see, what we're actually trying to do here is, we're trying to get a feel for how people spend their day at work... so, if you would, would you walk us through a typical day, for you? Peter Gibbons: Yeah. Bob Slydell: Great. Peter Gibbons: Well, I generally come in at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door - that way Lumbergh can't see me, heh heh - and, uh, after that I just sorta space out for about an hour. Bob Porter: Da-uh? Space out? Peter Gibbons: Yeah, I just stare at my desk; but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work. OFFICE SPACE
There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.
Bazooko's Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing Saturday nights if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.
A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth. But no one should be asked to handle this trip.
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into locked a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
And way too many more to quote from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
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