George Bailey, It’s a Wonderful Life, or
Benjamin Braddock, The Graduate.
I feel like a bootlegger’s wife!
Pssst. See post 30.
Dang, foiled again.
Where do you get off calling me Nick?
I don’t know you from Adam’s off ox.
I been savin’ this money for a divorce, if ever I got a husband!
The little town straggling up the hill was bright with colored Christmas lights. But George Pratt did not see them. He was leaning over the railing of the iron bridge, staring down moodily at the black water. The current eddied and swirled like liquid glass, and occasionally a bit of ice, detached from the shore, would go gliding downstream to be swallowed up in the shadows under the bridge.
<snip>
He did not even have to pick the thing up, for he knew what it was. And he knew it would have a blue handle and vari-colored bristles.
George Bailey, I’ll love you 'til the day I die.
Sentimental hogwash!
Buffalo gals, won’t you come out tonight?
Won’t you come out tonight?
Won’t you come out tonight?
Buffalo gals, won’t you come out tonight
Aaaaaand dance by the light of the moon?
I’m not paying you to be a canary!
Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?
It’s about time one of you lunkheads said it!
Well, I’m sorr-- HEYYY!!
What the Sam Hill ya yellin’ for, George?
Mother’s listening in on the extension upstairs.
I am NOT!
– Daddy, how do you spell “Hallelujah”?
– How should I know? What do you think I am, a dictionary?
You call this a happy family? Why do we have to have all these kids?
::sings:: What did you wish for when you threw that rooooock?
This town is no place for any man unless he’s willing to crawl to Potter.