Well, I’ll take it but I’m only making a buck on it.
I started out in college with 8 Million Dollars and I’ve still got 8 Million Dollars. I just can’t seem to get ahead.
Your phony school demeans real colleges everywhere!
Marian Paroo:
The librarian hasn’t felt much like doing research lately, but she did plenty when you first came here.
Professor Harold Hill:
Oh? About what?
Marian Paroo:
About Professor Harold Hill. Gary Conservatory of Music, Gold-medal Class of aught-five. Harold, there wasn’t any Gary Conservatory in aught-five.
Professor Harold Hill:
Why, there certainly was…
Marian Paroo:
Because the town wasn’t even built until aught-six.
Professor Harold Hill:
You knew all the time?
Marian Paroo:
I tore this page out of the Indiana Journal. It was originally intended to use against you. Now I give it to you with all of my heart.
Professor Harold Hill:
But if you knew, why didn’t you…
Marian Paroo:
[kisses him passionately]
Before leaving the ship, I consulted the computer library to familiarize myself with the customs associated with “camping out”.
11:55, almost midnight. Enough time for one more story. One more story before 12:00, just to keep us warm. In five minutes, it will be the 21st of April. One hundred years ago on the 21st of April, out in the waters around Spivey Point, a small clipper ship drew toward land. Suddenly, out of the night, the fog rolled in. For a moment, they could see nothing, not a foot in front of them. Then, they saw a light. By God, it was a fire burning on the shore, strong enough to penetrate the swirling mist. They steered a course toward the light. But it was a campfire, like this one. The ship crashed against the rocks, the hull sheared in two, masts snapped like a twig. The wreckage sank, with all the men aboard. At the bottom of the sea, lay the Elizabeth Dane, with her crew, their lungs filled with salt water, their eyes open, staring to the darkness. And above, as suddenly as it come, the fog lifted, receded back across the ocean and never came again. But it is told by the fishermen, and their fathers and grandfathers, that when the fog returns to Antonio Bay, the men at the bottom of the sea, out in the water by Spivey Point will rise up and search for the campfire that led them to their dark, icy death.
Sailors abandoning their posts, without orders, without leave. Men before the mast, taking the ship for themselves. What be that, First Mate?
Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. He took me to his cabin and he told me his secret. ‘I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts’ he said. ‘My name is Ryan; I inherited the ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from is not the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. His name was Cummerbund. The real Roberts has been retired 15 years and living like a king in Patagonia.’
You’re a smart boy, Roberts. But I know how to take care of smart boys. I hate your guts, you smart college guys!
Give me all your money, bookworm, or I blow your brains out. Now fill it up on number seven. Don’t do nothing stupid, man. I’m a good shot. I can hit you from here. Hey, man… what you reading in there? You a college boy or something? I’ll bet you think you’re smart. Think you could outsmart a bullet? What do you say we find out, huh? I’m talking to you! What do you say, huh? I’m talking to you!
Uh uh. I know what you’re thinking. “Did he fire six shots or only five?” Well to tell you the truth in all this excitement I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off, you’ve gotta ask yourself one question: “Do I feel lucky?” Well, do ya, punk?
Callahan? Do 'em in.
Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.
No vegetables, no dessert, that’s the rules.
Rules? In a knife fight? There’s no … (gets kicked in the crotch)
-“BB”-
Somebody give me a one-two-three go.
Run, Forrest! Run!
Wun, you wascawwy wabbit!
Look, that rabbit’s got a vicious streak a mile wide! It’s a killer!
Look, Valiant, the rabbit didn’t kill Acme. He’s not a murderer, I should know, he’s a dear friend of mine.