What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not or that you feel good this morning or that it is a morning to be good on?
A Good Day To Die Hard
Come out and fight! It is a good day to die! Thank You for making me a Human Being! Thank You for helpin’ me to become a warrior! Thank You for my victories, and for my defeats! Thank You for my vision, and the blindness in which I saw further! You make all things and direct them in their ways, O Grandfather. And now You have decided the Human Beings will soon walk a road that leads nowhere. I am gonna die now, unless death wants to fight. And I ask You for the last time to grant me my old power to make things happen.
Nope, not gonna do it. Wouldn’t be prudent.
Elvis was an artist. But that didn’t stop him from joining the service in time of war. And that’s why he’s The King, and you’re a schmuck.
Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady.
Darling. Could you, like, chill for a sec?
Hand me my diet pills, wouldja hon?
“Mother, she’s just a stranger”! As if men don’t desire strangers! As if… ohh, I refuse to speak of disgusting things, because they disgust me! You understand, boy? Go on, go tell her she’ll not be appeasing her ugly appetite with MY food… or my son! Or do I have tell her because you don’t have the guts! Huh, boy? You have the guts, boy?
We’ll see who’s the filthiest person alive! We’ll just see!
I ain’t giving up. I’ve worked hard, it took me years to work my way to the bottom.
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.
Sometimes it feels like we’re all living in a Prozac nation. The United States of Depression.
Whenever I feel afraid I hold my head erect and whistle a happy tune so no one ever knows I’m afraid.
Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf?
Don’t be afraid, Carlo. Come on, you think I’d make my sister a widow? I’m Godfather to your son.
Say hello to my little friend.
Yes it’s true. This man has no dick.
Why would I want to talk to David Frost?
Cause fuck him, that’s why.