I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.
We bare our souls and tell the most appalling secrets.
“Secrets and lies! We’re all in pain! Why can’t we share our pain? I’ve spent my entire life trying to make people happy, and the three people I love the most in the world hate each other’s guts, and I’m in the middle! I can’t take it anymore!”
Hate him! How could I hate him? Mothers don’t hate their sons! Is that what he told you? You see how you believe everything he tells you? And you can’t do the same for me, you can’t! GOD I DON’T KNOW WHAT ANYONE WANTS FROM ME ANYMORE!
No… wire… hangers. What’s wire hangers doing in this closet when I told you: no wire hangers EVER? I work and work 'till I’m half-dead, and I hear people saying, “She’s getting old.” And what do I get? A daughter… who cares as much about the beautiful dresses I give her… as she cares about me. What’s wire hangers doing in this closet? Answer me. I buy you beautiful dresses, and you treat them like they were some dishrag. You do. Three hundred dollar dress on a wire hanger. We’ll see how many you’ve got if they’re hidden somewhere. We’ll see… we’ll see. Get out of that bed. All of this is coming out. Out. Out. Out. Out. Out. Out. You’ve got any more? We’re gonna see how many wire hangers you’ve got in your closet. Wire hangers, why? Why? Christina, get out of that bed. Get out of that bed. You live in the most beautiful house in Brentwood and you don’t care if your clothes are stretched out from wire hangers. And your room looks like some two-dollar-a-week furnished room in some two-bit back street town in Okalahoma. Get up. Get up. Clean up this mess.
That rug really pulled the room together.
Here lies Walter Fielding. He bought a house, and it killed him.
I don’t deserve this… to die like this. I was building a house.
Here Comes Mr. Jordan!
And now, the player coach of the Toon Squad, at six foot six from North Carolina, His Royal Airness: Michael Jordan!
Michael Jordan: But I’m a baseball player now. Bugs: Right, and I’m a Shakespearean actor. Stan Podalak: C’mon, Michael, it’s game time. Slip on your Hanes, lace up your Nikes, take your Wheaties and your Gatorade, and we’ll grab a Big Mac on the way to the ballpark.
Doth mother know thou wearest her drapes?
I was “an Elizabethan fruit fly.” I was “the Betty Boop of Stratford-on-Avon.” I was “putrid.” Capital P, capital U, capital TRID.
The truth is, you just cost the insurance company $2,700. You’re a terrible risk. Nobody’s gonna want to issue you a policy after this.
Our Lady of Blessed Acceleration, don’t fail me now.
I feel the need… the need for speed.
We’re lighter, we’re faster, and if that don’t work, we’re nastier.
Push the button, Max!
Hahaha ejecto seato man! It works! I love this button.
How should I know they’d have a can of shark repellent bat spray handy?