You know, am I me? Is Malkovich Malkovich? I had a piece of wood in my hand Maxine. I don’t have it any more. Where is it? Did it disappear? How could that be? Is it still in Malkovich’s head? I don’t know! Do you see what a metaphysical can of worms this portal is?
Little wooden head, and that’s not all. Little wood seat, in case you fall.
I want to be a real boy.
Number 5 is alive.
I’m putting the word out. Five hundred grand for this clown dead. A million alive, so I can teach him some manners first.
Clowns are funny people, they only love once.
You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it’s me, I’m a little fucked up maybe, but I’m funny how, I mean funny like I’m a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I’m here to fuckin’ amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?
Oh, ho, ho, irony! Oh, no, no, we don’t get that here. See, uh, people ski topless here while smoking dope, so irony’s not really a, a high priority. We haven’t had any irony here since about, uh, '83, when I was the only practitioner of it. And I stopped because I was tired of being stared at.
“No, drinking doesn’t agree with me.”
“Yeah, neither does ski-jumping.”
I don’t think they tried to market it to the billionaire, spelunking, BASE-jumping crowd.
You spoiled little bastard! You’re a man who has everything, haven’t you, but that’s not enough.
Well now, ain’t this an elegant neighborhood, all the residents dressed so fine! One day off the boat am I, with a job that’s nearly mine! 'Tis a job with an elegant millionaire, and his elegant family! Today I move from immigrant - to high society!
Look at me. When I came to this country, I didn’t have a nickel in my pocket. Now I’ve worked my way up to a state of extreme poverty. [NB: From memory, Groucho. May not be correct in detail.]
Come on! Nobody’s gonna drive this lousy freeway when they can take the Red Car for a nickel!
Clang, clang, clang, went the trolley. Ding, ding, ding, went the bell.
All that’s got to happen is a policeman to ask his name. A big argument. Clang, clang! Bellevue!
I’ll tell you where it’s gonna end, Miss Somerville… When there are more sick ones than well ones, the sick ones will lock the well ones up.
Don’t thank me, warden. We’re all part of the same team. Good night!
What are they gonna do to me, Sarge? What are they gonna do to me?
I didn’t start it, it wasn’t my fault, and if this were America, I would sue.