You expect me to talk when all I could preserve is my own measly, worthless life? TOO BLOODY RIGHT, I’LL TALK! I’ll talk, I’ll talk, just try and stop me!
You talkin’ to me?
No, I’m talking to hear myself say it!
You can understand communication and still end up single.
Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?
Yes, words are useless! Gobble-gobble-gobble-gobble-gobble! Too much of it, darling, too much!
Never do I ever want to hear another word. There isn’t one, I haven’t heard.
“Eskimo.” Heather Duke underlined a lot of things in this copy of Moby Dick, but I believe the word “Eskimo,” underlined all by itself, is the key to understanding Heather’s pain.
lt’s love and pain and the whole damn thing.
M-hmm. Well, it’s nothing very special. Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations. And, finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark some sort of controversy, which, it seems, is the only way, these days, to get the jaded, video-sated public off their fucking arses and back in the sodding cinema. Family entertainment? Bollocks. What they want is filth: people doing things to each other with chainsaws during tupperware parties, babysitters being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates, vigilante groups strangling chickens, armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats. Where’s the fun in pictures? Oh, well, there we are. Here’s the theme music. Goodnight.
I don’t have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It’s a depression. Everybody’s out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel’s worth, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there’s nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there’s no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TV’s while some local newscaster tells us that today we had 15 homicides and 63 violent crimes, as if that’s the way it’s supposed to be! We know things are bad - worse than bad. They’re crazy. It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, “Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won’t say anything. Just leave us alone.” Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad! I don’t want you to protest. I don’t want you to riot - I don’t want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn’t know what to tell you to write. I don’t know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you’ve got to get mad. You’ve got to say, “I’m a HUMAN BEING, Goddamn it! My life has VALUE!” So I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell: "I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!" I want you to get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and stick your head out and yell: "I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!" Things have got to change. But first, you’ve gotta get mad! You’ve got to say: "I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!" Then we’ll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: ***“I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” ***
Shut the fuck up, Donny!
Spanish monks under a vow of silence. Which I wish you’d take!
What is it about you that bloody well makes you want to go on about it the whole bloody time?
Mr. Marceau, how would you like to appear in the first silent movie made in nearly fifty years?
All things being equal, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.
At a stage in life when other men prosper, I’m reduced to living in Philadelphia.
We’re standing here in Philadelphia, the, uh, city of brotherly love, the birthplace of freedom, where the, uh, founding fathers authored the Declaration of Independence, and I don’t recall that glorious document saying anything about all straight men are created equal. I believe it says all men are created equal.
And most importantly, they showed us that no matter whom we choose to love, be they heterosexual, homosexual, asexual, bisexual, trisexual, quadrisexual, pansexual, transexual, omnisexual or that thing where the chick ties the belt around your neck and tinkles on a ballon, it has absolutely nothing to do with who we are as people.
I’d like to share a revelation that I’ve had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species and I realized that you’re not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You’re a plague and we are the cure.