Oh look! They’ve been to Saturn. Hey, I’ve been to Saturn! Whoa. Sandworms. You hate 'em right? I hate 'em myself!
I am not malfunctioning–you are!
I am putting myself to the best possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.
He is intelligent, but not experienced. His pattern indicates two-dimensional thinking.
I’m going to think outside the box.
No one lives forever, no one. But with advances in modern science and my high level income, it’s not crazy to think I can live to be 245, maybe 300. Heck, I just read in the newspaper that they put a pig heart in some guy from Russia. Do you know what that means?
Malkovich malkovich, Malkovich. Malkovich?
Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?
Fosse, Fosse, Fosse!
Let’s get this straight, I am not Nijinsky. I am not Marlon Brando. I am Mrs. Hunter’s little boy, Tony, song and dance man.
Honey, let me hit you with a couple of names. Yul Brynner is Clinton. Paul and Joanne as Tom and Lee! I know, I hope it has enough content for 'em. Who have I got for Alice? Oh, I know, Carly Simon. I mean the soundtrack album alone will pay for her clothes. Now, now don’t scream. Virna Lisi. No, darling, as me!
This is Cameron’s first nomination and he’s in extremely good company. Tonight he joins fellow best actor nominee Paul Newman for “Coot”, Clint Eastwood for “Codger”, Michael Douglas for “Primary Urges” and Steven Seagal for “Snowball in Hell”.
In every actor there lives a tiger, a pig, an ass, and a nightingale.
You must be part coon dog, 'cause I’ve been chased by the best of them, and son, you make ‘em look like they’re all runnin’ in slow motion. I just wanna say that.
What? You didn’t see that coming?
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.
People think it’s all about misery and desperation and death and all that shit which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn’t do it. After all, we’re not fucking stupid. At least, we’re not that fucking stupid.
Ok, I’ll come over and buff your body and put a nice glow to your cheeks.
It’s what you wear from ear to ear, and not from head to toe that matters.
You’ll dress only in attire specially sanctioned by MIB Special Services. You’ll conform to the identity we give you, eat where we tell you, live where we tell you. From now on, you’ll have no identifying marks of any kind.