de eerste monoloog die ik opper is het verhaal dat alec baldwin houdt in glengarry glen ross.

als tweede is patrick batemans monoloog over phil collins in american psycho:
"Do you like Phil Collins? I've been a big Genesis fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before that, I really didn't understand any of their work. Too artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where, uh, Phil Collins' presence became more apparent. I think Invisible Touch was the group's undisputed masterpiece. It's an epic meditation on intangibility. At the same time, it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding three albums. Christy, take off your robe. Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins and Rutherford. You can practically hear every nuance of every instrument. Sabrina, remove your dress. In terms of lyrical craftsmanship, the sheer songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism. Sabrina, why don't you, uh, dance a little. Take the lyrics to Land of Confusion. In this song, Phil Collins addresses the problems of abusive political authority. In Too Deep is the most moving pop song of the 1980s, about monogamy and commitment. The song is extremely uplifting. Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as, uh, anything I've heard in rock. Christy, get down on your knees so Sabrina can see your ass. Phil Collins' solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying, in a narrower way. Especially songs like In the Air Tonight and, uh, Against All Odds. Sabrina, don't just stare at it, eat it. But I also think Phil Collins works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist. This is Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favorite."

nu jij!

Mijn bijdrage:

I believe in America.
America has made my fortune. I
raised my daughter in the American
fashion; I gave her freedom, but
taught her never to dishonor her
family. She found a boy friend,
not an Italian. She went to the
movies with him, stayed out late.
Two months ago he took her for a
drive, with another boy friend.
They made her drink whiskey and
then they tried to take advantage
of her. She resisted; she kept her
honor. So they beat her like an
animal. When I went to the hospital
her nose was broken, her jaw was
shattered and held together by
wire, and she could not even weep
because of the pain.
I went to the Police like a good
American. These two boys were
arrested and brought to trial. The
judge sentenced them to three years
in prison, and suspended the
sentence. Suspended sentence!
They went free that very day. I
stood in the courtroom like a fool,
and those bastards, they smiled at
me. Then I said to my wife, for
Justice, we must go to The Godfather.

Samuel L. Jackson quoot ter rechtvaardiging uit de Bijbel voor-ie iemand neerschiet:

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

Christopher Walken geeft een horloge aan zijn zoontje en vertelt wat over de geschiedenis van het uurwerkje:

"The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any of the slopes were gonna get their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you."

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:08 schreef El_Diablo het volgende:
In the Matrix Reloaded Agent(s) Smith: "I need more of me"

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[Dit bericht is gewijzigd door Skimmer op 26-05-2003 12:20]

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:08 schreef El_Diablo het volgende:
In the Matrix Reloaded Agent(s) Smith: "I need more of me"

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:16 schreef DJ_Scuff het volgende:
I'm here to kick ass and chew bubblegum... and i'm all out of gum.

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Dennis (Michael Palin)in 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:18 schreef Philosocles het volgende:

Christopher Walken geeft een horloge aan zijn zoontje en vertelt wat over de geschiedenis van het uurwerkje:

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:18 schreef Philosocles het volgende:
Pulp Fiction

Samuel L. Jackson quoot ter rechtvaardiging uit de Bijbel voor-ie iemand neerschiet:

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:24 schreef DeWaasheid het volgende:

[..]

Toen ik et topic zag wist ik zeker dat die erin zou komen...

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:21 schreef Striffelbuur het volgende:
De 'Choose life'-monoloog uit Trainspotting.

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But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life, I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons! Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?"

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:24 schreef BobRooney het volgende:

[..]

Wist niet dat het zijn zoontje was....

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uit Goodfellas

Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, fuck-off shiny ones. Ones that look like they could skin a crocodile. Knives are good, because they don't make any noise, and the less noise they make, the more likely we are to use them. Shit 'em right up. Makes it look like we're serious. Guns for show, knives for a pro.

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:26 schreef Gorro het volgende:
De monoloog in 25th Hour voor die spiegel

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Vetste monoloog ever .... imho ..... .

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I'm finished speaking to both of you, you're both fucken insane. you wanna know what your problem is? MTV, playboy, and madsion *beep* avenue. yes. lemme explain something to you. girl with big tits have big asses. girls with little tits have little asses. thats the way it goes. god doesnt *beep* around, he's a fair guy, he gave the fatties big beautiful tits, and the skinnies little tiny niglers. its not my rule. you dont like it, call him. oh guys, look what we have here. look at this, your favorite. oh! you like that? yeah, thats nice right? well it doesnt exist, ok? look at the hair, the hair is long its flowing its like a river, well its a *beep* weave. and the tits, please! i can hang my overcoat on them. tits by design were invented to be suckeled by babies, yes, they're purely functional. THESE are cylicon city. and look, my favorite, the shaved puvis. puvic hair being so unruling and all. this is a mockery! this is a shame! this is *beep*! implants, kologen, plastic, capped teath, the fat sucked out, the hair extended, the nose fixed, the bush shaved, these are not real women, they're beauty freaks, and they make all us normal women, with our rinckles, our puckered boobs, our cellulyte, feel somehow inadequate. well i dont buy it, alright. but you *beep* luves, you think if there's a chance in hell that you'll end up with one of these women, you dont give us real women anything approaching a commitment. its pathetic, i dont know what you think you're gonna do, youre gonna end up 80 years old drooling in some nursing home then youre gonna decide? its time to settle down, get married, have some kids. what are you gonna find a cheerleader? oh eat me, look at paul, with his models on the wall, his dog named el meckfirsen, he's insane, he's obsessed, you're all obsessed, if you had an once of self esteem, of self worth, of self confidence, you would realize, that as tride as it may sound, beauty is truely skin deep. and you know what, if you ever did hook one of those girls, i garuntee you'd be sick of her. get over yourself. no matter how perfect the nipple, how suffle the thy, unless there is some other *beep* going on in the realationship besides the physical, its gonna get old, ok. and you guys, as a gender, have got to get a grip, otherwise, the future of the human race is in jepredy.

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"I'm very sorry the government taxes their tips, that's fucked up. That ain't my fault. It would seem to me that waitresses are one of the many groups the government fucks in the ass on a regular basis. Look, if you ask me to sign something that says the government shouldn't do that, I'll sign it, put it to a vote, I'll vote for it, but what I won't do is play ball. And as for this non-college bullshit I got two words for that: learn to fuckin' type, 'cause if you're expecting me to help out with the rent you're in for a big fuckin' surprise. "

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:18 schreef Philosocles het volgende:
Pulp Fiction

Samuel L. Jackson quoot ter rechtvaardiging uit de Bijbel voor-ie iemand neerschiet:

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

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"I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd."

Quentin Tarantino = briljant

[Dit bericht is gewijzigd door Frggl op 26-05-2003 13:04]

Res. Dogs en Pulp Fiction, en ook die uit American Psycho vind ik heel leuk.
Maar die uit The 25th Hour wint.

[Dit bericht is gewijzigd door sweek op 26-05-2003 12:53]

Kol. Kurtz op het einde:

" I've seen horrors...horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that...But you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means.

Horror. Horror has a face...And you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terrorare your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared.

They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with Special Forces...Seems a thousand centuries ago...We went into a camp to innoculate the children. We left the camp after we had innoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We wentback there and they had come and hacked off every innoculated arm. There they were in a pile...A pile of little arms. And I remember...I...I...I cried... I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know what I
wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget.

And then I realized...like I was shot...Like I was shot with a diamond...a diamond bullet right through my forehead...And I thought:
My God...the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect,
genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were
stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not
monsters...These were men...trained cadres...these men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love...but they had the strength...the strength...to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly.

You have to have men who are moral...and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordal instincts to kill without feeling...without passion... without judgement...without judgement. Because it's judgement that defeats us. "

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:40 schreef Frggl het volgende:
Quentin Tarantoni = briljant

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Het is Tarantino maar verder heb je groot gelijk

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:02 schreef HeyFreak het volgende:

[..]

Tarantoni

Het is Tarantino maar verder heb je groot gelijk

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uit Taxi Driver

Mystery Man: We've met before, haven't we.

Fred Madison: I don't think so. Where was it you think we met?
Mystery Man: At your house. Don't you remember?
Fred Madison: No. No, I don't. Are you sure?
Mystery Man: Of course. As a matter of fact, I'm there right now.
Fred Madison: What do you mean? You're where right now?
Mystery Man: At your house.
Fred Madison: That's fucking crazy, man.
Mystery Man: Call me. Dial your number. Go ahead.
Mystery Man: Call Me. Dial your number. Go ahead.
Mystery Man: [over the phone] I told you I was here.
Fred Madison: [amused] How'd you do that?
Mystery Man: Ask me.
Fred Madison: How did you get inside my house?
Mystery Man: You invited me. It is not my custom to go where I am not wanted.
Fred Madison: (into the phone) Who are you?
Mystery Man: Give me back my phone.
Mystery Man: It's been a pleasure talking to you.

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:23 schreef Chooselife het volgende:
Lost Highway:

Mystery Man: We've met before, haven't we.
-knip-

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:18 schreef Philosocles het volgende:
Pulp Fiction

Christopher Walken geeft een horloge aan zijn zoontje en vertelt wat over de geschiedenis van het uurwerkje:

"The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any of the slopes were gonna get their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you."

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:47 schreef ChrisJX het volgende:

[..]

Is dit ook uit Pulp Fiction?
Maar geeft die Christopher Walken het dan niet aan zijn stiefzoontje oid?

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Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishes on the brass of the Titanic. It's all going down, man! So fuck off, with your sofa units and your green stripe patterns. I say never be complete. I say stop being perfect. I say let's evolve and let the chips fall where they may. But that's me, I could be wrong, maybe it's a terrible tragedy.

Well, I got to tell ya...I'd be very, very careful who I talked to about this. Because the person who wrote that...is dangerous. And this button-down oxford cloth psycho, might just snap at any moment, stalking from office to office with an Armatile AR-10 Carbine-Gas semiautomatic weapon, bitterly pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. Might be someone you've known for years...someone very, very close to you.

[Dit bericht is gewijzigd door Slarioux op 26-05-2003 13:58]

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:51 schreef Slarioux het volgende:
Jack and Tyler each stir a boiling pot.
-edit-

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:53 schreef brazen het volgende:

[..]

Dat is toch geen monoloog?

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Ik las net weer iets anders... ik speciaal zoeken naar gesprekken ipv monologen

Zal zo editten

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:45 schreef sweek het volgende:

[..]

Dat is een dialoog, geen monoloog...

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This is where the hungry come to feed. From mine it's a generation that's circles the globe and searches something we haven't tried before. So never refuse an invitation, never resist the unfamiliar, never fail to be polite and never outstay the welcome. Just keep your mind and suck in the experience. And if it hurts, it's probably worth it.
And me, I still believe in paradise. But now at least I know its not some place you can look for, cause its not where you go. Its how you feel for a moment in your life when your apart of something, and if you find that moment... it lasts forever...

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 13:53 schreef brazen het volgende:

[..]

Dat is toch geen monoloog?

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Jawel dat is wel een monoloog

\SPOILER

The Usual Suspects
"The Tale of Keyser Soze"

Verbal Kint: He's supposed to be Turkish. Some say his father was German. Nobody ever believed he was real. Nobody ever knew him or saw anybody that ever worked directly for him. But to hear Kobayashi tell it, anybody could have worked for Soze. You never knew; that was his power. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
One story the guys told me, the story I believe, was from his days in Turkey. There was a gang of Hungarians that wanted their own mob. They realized that to be in power, you didn't need guns or money or even numbers. You just needed the will to do what the other guy wouldn't. After a while, they come into power and then they come after Soze. He was small-time then, just running dope, they say. (We see all of this in flashback) They come to his home in the afternoon, looking for his business. They find his wife and kids in the house and decide to wait for Soze. He comes home to find his wife raped and children screaming. The Hungarians knew Soze was tough, not to be trifled with, so they let him know they meant business. They tell him they want his territory, all his business. Soze looks over the faces of his family. Then he showed these men of will what will really was.
(Soze shoots two Hungarians, then shoots his children and his wife as the last Hungarian watches in surprised horror)
He tells him he would rather see his family dead than live another day after this. He lets the last Hungarian go, waits until his wife and kids are in the ground, and then he goes after the rest of the mob. He kills their kids. He kills their wives. He kills their parents and their parents' friends. He burns down the houses they live in, the stores they work in. He kills people that owe them money. And like that, he's gone. Underground. Nobody's ever seen him since. He becomes a myth, a spook story that criminals tell their kids at night. "Rat on your pop and Keyser Soze will get you." But no one ever really believes.
Agent Kujon: Do you believe in him, Verbal?
Verbal Kint: Keaton always said, "I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him." Well, I believe in God -- and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.

Blake: You call yourself a salesman, you son of a bitch?
Moss: I don't have to listen to this shit.
Blake: You certainly don't pal. 'Cause the good news is -- you're fired. The bad news is you've got, all you got, just one week to regain your jobs, starting tonight. Starting with tonights sit. Oh, have I got your attention now? Good. 'Cause we're adding a little something to this months sales contest. As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac Eldorado. Anyone want to see second prize? Second prize's a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired. You get the picture? You're laughing now? You got leads. Mitch and Murray paid good money. Get their names to sell them! You can't close the leads you're given, you can't close shit, you ARE shit, hit the bricks pal and beat it 'cause you are going out!!!
Levene: The leads are weak.
Blake: 'The leads are weak.' Fucking leads are weak? You're weak. I've been in this business fifteen years.
Moss: What's your name?
Blake: FUCK YOU, that's my name!! You know why, Mister? 'Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I drove a eighty thousand dollar BMW. That's my name!! (to Levene) And your name is "you're wanting." And you can't play in a man's game. You can't close them. (at a near whisper) And you go home and tell your wife your troubles. (to everyone again) Because only one thing counts in this life! Get them to sign on the line which is dotted! You hear me, you fucking faggots?
(Blake flips over a blackboard which has two sets of anagrams on it: ABC, and AIDA.)
Blake: A-B-C. A-always, B-be, C-closing. Always be closing! Always be closing!! A-I-D-A. Attention, interest, decision, action. Attention -- do I have your attention? Interest -- are you interested? I know you are because it's fuck or walk. You close or you hit the bricks! Decision -- have you made your decision for Christ?!! And action. A-I-D-A; get out there!! You got the prospects comin' in; you think they came in to get out of the rain? Guy doesn't walk on the lot unless he wants to buy. Sitting out there waiting to give you their money! Are you gonna take it? Are you man enough to take it? (to Moss) What's the problem pal? You. Moss.
Moss: You're such a hero, you're so rich. Why you coming down here and waste your time on a bunch of bums?
(Blake sits and takes off his gold watch)
Blake: You see this watch? You see this watch? That watch cost more than your car. I made $970,000 last year. How much you make? You see, pal, that's who I am. And you're nothing. Nice guy? I don't give a shit. Good father? Fuck you -- go home and play with your kids!! (to everyone) You wanna work here? Close!! (to Aaronow) You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cocksucker? You can't take this -- how can you take the abuse you get on a sit?! You don't like it -- leave. I can go out there tonight with the materials you got, make myself fifteen thousand dollars! Tonight! In two hours! Can you? Can you? Go and do likewise! A-I-D-A!! Get mad! You sons of bitches! Get mad!! You know what it takes to sell real estate?
(He pulls something out of briefcase)
It takes brass balls to sell real estate.

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 14:00 schreef InWonderland het volgende:

[..]

SPOILER......

Jawel dat is wel een monoloog

\SPOILER

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Lester (voiceover):
My name is Lester Burnham. This is my street. This is my neighborhood. This is my life. I am 42 years old. In less than a year, I will be dead. Of course, I don't know that yet, and in a way, I'm dead already. Look at me, jerking off in the shower. This will be the highlight of my day. It's all downhill from here. That's my wife Carolyn. See the way the handle on those pruning shears match her gardening clogs? That's not an accident. That's our neighbor, Jim, and that's his lover, Jim. Man, Iget exhausted just watching her. She wasn't always like this. She used to be happy. We used to be happy. My daughter, Jane. Only child. Janie's a pretty typical teenager: angry, insecure, confused. I wish I could tell her that's all going to pass...but I don't want to lie to her. Both my wife and daughter think I'm this gigantic loser. And in a way, they're right. I have lost something. I'm not exactly sure what, but I know I didn't always feel this...sedated. But you know what? It's never too late to get it back.

(Agent Smith to Morpheus)

"Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact
that we had to sacrifice a whole
Saturday in detention for whatever
it was we did wrong. But we think
you're crazy to make an essay
telling you who we think we are.
You see us as you want to see us...
In the simplest terms, in the most
convenient definitions.
But what we found out is that each
one of us is a brain..."

Emilio Estevez (Andrew):

"...and an athlete..."

Ally Sheedy (Allison):

"...and a basket case..."

Molly Ringwald (Claire):

"...a princess..."

Judd Nelson (Bender):

"...and a criminal..."

Anthony Michael Hall (Brian):
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

"Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinburg? I have more responsibility here than you could possibly fathom.

You weep for Santiago, and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.

I know deep down in places you dont talk about at parties, you don't want me on that wall, you nééd me on that wall.

We use words like honor... code... loyalty.

We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then question the manner in which I provide it. I prefer you said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand to post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to!"

Ik krijg er nog de kouwe rillingen van als ik er aan denk. Vooral de opbouw en de manier van uitdrukken die Jack Nicholson gebruikt is indrukwekkend.

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 16:36 schreef Bombie het volgende:
Uit A Few Good Men:

...getyp en gepraat...

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boondock saints, de meest ondergewaarderde film ooit

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You know what the problem with Hollywood is? They make shit. Unbelievable, unremarkable shit. Now I'm not some grungy wannabe filmmaker that's searching for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or something. No, it's easy to pick apart bad acting, short-sighted directing, and a purely moronic stringing together of words that many of the studios term as "prose". No, I'm talking about the lack of realism. Realism; not a pervasive element in today's modern American cinematic vision. Take Dog Day Afternoon, for example. Arguably Pacino's best work, short of Scarface and Godfather Part 1, of course. Masterpiece of directing, easily Lumet's best. The cinematography, the acting, the screenplay, all top-notch. But... they didn't push the envelope. Now what if in Dog Day, Sonny REALLY wanted to get away with it? What if -- now here's the tricky part -- what if he started killing hostages right away? No mercy, no quarter. "Meet our demands or the pretty blonde in the bellbottoms gets it the back of the head." Bam, splat! What, still no bus? Come on! How many innocent victims splattered across a window would it take to have the city reverse its policy on hostage situations? And this is 1976; there's no CNN, there's no CNBC, there's no internet! Now fast forward to today, present time, same situation. How quickly would the modern media make a frenzy over this? In a matter of hours, it'd be biggest story from Boston to Budapest! Ten hostages die, twenty, thirty; bam bam, right after another, all caught in high-def, computer-enhanced, color corrected. You can practically taste the brain matter. All for what? A bus, a plane? A couple of million dollars that's federally insured? I don't think so. Just a thought. I mean, it's not within the realm of conventional cinema... but what if?

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Hello? Hello, Dimitri? Listen, I can't hear too well, do you suppose you could turn the music down just a little? Oh, that's much better. Yes. Fine, I can hear you now, Dimitri. Clear and plain and coming through fine. I'm coming through fine too, eh? Good, then. Well then as you say we're both coming through fine. Good. Well it's good that you're fine and I'm fine. I agree with you. It's great to be fine. laughs Now then Dimitri. You know how we've always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the bomb. The bomb, Dimitri. The hydrogen bomb. Well now what happened is, one of our base commanders, he had a sort of, well he went a little funny in the head. You know. Just a little... funny. And uh, he went and did a silly thing. Well, I'll tell you what he did, he ordered his planes... to attack your country. Well let me finish, Dimitri. Let me finish, Dimitri. Well, listen, how do you think I feel about it? Can you imagine how I feel about it, Dimitri? Why do you think I'm calling you? Just to say hello? Of course I like to speak to you. Of course I like to say hello. Not now, but any time, Dimitri. I'm just calling up to tell you something terrible has happened. It's a friendly call. Of course it's a friendly call. Listen, if it wasn't friendly, ... you probably wouldn't have even got it. They will not reach their targets for at least another hour. I am... I am positive, Dimitri. Listen, I've been all over this with your ambassador. It is not a trick. Well I'll tell you. We'd like to give your air staff a complete run down on the targets, the flight plans, and the defensive systems of the planes. Yes! I mean, if we're unable to recall the planes, then I'd say that, uh, well, we're just going to have to help you destroy them, Dimitri. I know they're our boys. Alright, well, listen... who should we call? Who should we call, Dimitri? The people...? Sorry, you faded away there. The People's Central Air Defense Headquarters. Where is that, Dimitri? In Omsk. Right. Yes. Oh, you'll call them first, will you? Uh huh. Listen, do you happen to have the phone number on you, Dimitri? What? I see, just ask for Omsk Information. I'm sorry too, Dimitri. I'm very sorry. Alright! You're sorrier than I am! But I am sorry as well. I am as sorry as you are, Dimitri. Don't say that you are more sorry than I am, because I am capable of being just as sorry as you are. So we're both sorry, alright? Alright.

SEBASTIAN
Be more specific.

KATHRYN
In English.
(whispers in his ear)
I'll fuck your brains out.

SEBASTIAN
What makes you think I'd go for that bet? That's a seventy thousand dollar car.

KATHRYN
Because I'm the only person you can't control and it kills you.

Sebastian sneers at her.

KATHRYN
Do we have a deal?

SEBASTIAN
No way, that car means everything to me.

She kisses him and licks her tongue over his lips.

KATHRYN
(whispering) You can put it anywhere.

quote:

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 12:31 schreef Posdnous het volgende:

[..]

Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers peddling for money and grinning behind my back. The squeegee man dirtying up my clean windshield, get a fucking job. Fuck the *Seeks* and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs and curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training SLOW THE FUCK DOWN. Fuck the Chelsea boys with their wax chests and pumped up biceps, going down on each other in my parks and on my piers. Jingling their dicks on my channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of over-priced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastics. Ten years in the country and still no speaka English. Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in Cafés sipping tea in glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheeling and dealing and scheming. Go back where you fucking came from. Fuck the black Haddam in Hasidim strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff selling South African Apartie Diamonds. Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-stout masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe motherfuckers figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life. You think Bush and Cheney didnt know about that shit? Give me a fucking break. Puerto Ricans 20 to a car swelling up the welfare. Worlds worst fucking parade in the city. And dont even get me started with the Dumb-inicans cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Italians with their pomaded hair and their nylon warm-ups with their St. Anthony medallions swinging like Jason GeHan Louisville Sluggers baseball bats trying to audition for the Skeek. Fuck the upper-east-side wives with their antique scarves and their Gucci artichokes. $400 new faces, getting pulled and lifted and stretched all taut and shiny. Youre not fooling anybody sweetheart. Fuck the uptown brothers; they never pass the ball, they dont wanna play defense, they take five steps on every lay up, and then they wanna turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended 137 years ago, move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shot, standing behind the blue wall of silence. You betray our trust. Fuck the priests who puts his hands down some innocent childs pants. Fuck the church that protects them delivering us into evil. And while youre at it fuck _ _ he got off easy: a day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the alleluias of the legion angels for eternity. Try 7 years in fucking Otis Bill, J. Fuck Osama bin Laden, Al Quida, and backward ass cave dwelling fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the name of innocent thousands murdered everywhere, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your 72 whores roasting in a jet fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass.

---

Any Given Sunday
Gotta love Oliver Stone
Er zijn nog wel meer leuke monologen, maar deze film zag ik toevallig gister nog

I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I've somehow been infected by it.

quote:

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 21:46 schreef Astronaut_Jones het volgende:
Agent Smith: 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. 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. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet, you are a plague, and we are the cure.

I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I've somehow been infected by it.

---

quote:

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Op maandag 26 mei 2003 17:56 schreef Jummy het volgende:
Deze uit Cruel Intentions onthoud ik altijd:

SEBASTIAN
Be more specific.

KATHRYN
In English.
(whispers in his ear)
I'll fuck your brains out.

SEBASTIAN
What makes you think I'd go for that bet? That's a seventy thousand dollar car.

KATHRYN
Because I'm the only person you can't control and it kills you.

Sebastian sneers at her.

KATHRYN
Do we have a deal?

SEBASTIAN
No way, that car means everything to me.

She kisses him and licks her tongue over his lips.

KATHRYN
(whispering) You can put it anywhere.

---

"Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man INSTINCTS! He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, his own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste! Taste, don't swallow. Ahaha! And when you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He's laughin' His sick, fuckin' ass off. He's a tight-ass! He's a sadist! He's an absentee landlord. Worship THAT? NEVER!"

Conner en Murphy MacManus: And shepherds we shall be, for thee my Lord for thee, Power hath descended forth from thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command, we shall flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine patrie, et fili - et spiritu sancti.
*BLAM*

Bullet Tooth Tony:

quote:

---

So, you are obviously the big dick. The men on the side of ya are your balls. There are two types of balls. There are big brave balls, and there are little mincey faggot balls.
Now, dicks have drive and clarity of vision, but they are not clever. They smell pussy and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old pussy, and have brought your two small mincey faggot balls along for a good old time. But you've got your parties mangled up. There's no pussy here, just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman. Like a prick, you are having second thoughts. You are shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with ya. The fact that you've got "Replica" written down the side of your gun. (withdraws his gun) And the fact that I've got "Desert Eagle point five O" written on the side of mine, should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now... Fuck off!

---

Brick Top:

quote:

---

Brick Top: You're always gonna have problems lifting a body in one piece. Apparently the best thing to do is cut up a corpse into six pieces and pile it all together.
And when you got your six pieces, you gotta get rid of them, because it's no good leaving it in the deep freeze for your mum to discover, now is it? Then I hear the best thing to do is feed them to pigs. You got to starve the pigs for a few days, then the sight of a chopped-up body will look like curry to a pisshead. You gotta shave the heads of your victims, and pull the teeth out for the sake of the piggies' digestion. You could do this afterwards, of course, but you don't want to go sievin' through pig shit, now do you? They will go through bone like butter. You need at least sixteen pigs to finish the job in one sitting, so be wary of any man who keeps a pig farm. They will go through a body that weighs 200 pounds in about eight minutes. That means that a single pig can consume two pounds of uncooked flesh every minute. Hence the expression, "as greedy as a pig."

---

quote:

---

I'm an angel. I kill newborns while their mamas watch. I turn cities into salt. And occasionally, when I feel like it, I tear little girls apart. And from now till kingdom come... the only thing you can count on... in your existence... is never understanding why.

---

quote:

---

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die

---

Ellen Burnstyn als Sara Goldfarb in Requim for a Dream

quote:

---

I'm somebody now, Harry. Everybody likes me. Soon, millions of people will see me and they'll all like me. I'll tell them about you, and your father, how good he was to us. Remember? It's a reason to get up in the morning. It's a reason to lose weight, to fit in the red dress. It's a reason to smile. It makes tomorrow all right. What have I got Harry, hm? Why should I even make the bed, or wash the dishes? I do them, but why should I? I'm alone. Your father's gone, you're gone. I got no one to care for. What have I got, Harry? I'm lonely. I'm old.

---

Een rechercheur kijkt uit het raam in een meidenstudentenhuis en zegt:

"girls, i've got good news and bad news. The good news is; your boyfriends are here; the bad news: they are dead."

quote:

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Op donderdag 29 mei 2003 02:28 schreef Frggl het volgende:
De tegenhanger van Ezekiel 25:17 uit Boondock Saints:

Conner en Murphy MacManus: And shepherds we shall be, for thee my Lord for thee, Power hath descended forth from thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command, we shall flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine patrie, et fili - et spiritu sancti.
*BLAM*

---

quote:

---

Op dinsdag 27 mei 2003 12:12 schreef Tony_Montana67 het volgende:
John Milton (Al Pacino)

"Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man INSTINCTS! He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, his own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste! Taste, don't swallow. Ahaha! And when you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He's laughin' His sick, fuckin' ass off. He's a tight-ass! He's a sadist! He's an absentee landlord. Worship THAT? NEVER!"

---

I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't, I can't look into your eyes without feeling that, that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship - no pun intended - but I had to say it, because I've never felt this way before, and I don't care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn't allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I'll accept that. But I know...I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. All I ask, please, is that you just, you just not dismiss that - and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I'm forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me, which - while I do appreciate it - I'd never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.

quote:

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Op vrijdag 8 augustus 2003 17:26 schreef Astronaut_Jones het volgende:
Patrick - You like Huey Lewis and the News? Paul - They are okay.
ETC.......

---

quote:

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Op vrijdag 8 augustus 2003 17:50 schreef Ash het volgende:

[..]

Dat is geen monoloog, maar een dialoog

---

Jip:

We wanna go somewhere else. We're not threatened by people anymore. All our insecurities have evaporated. We're in the clouds now. We're wide open. We're spacemen orbiting the earth. The world looks beautiful from here, man. We're nympholeptics, desiring for the unobtainable. We risk sanity for moments of temporary enlightenment. So many ideas. So little memory. The last thought killed by anticipation of the next. We embrace an overwhelming feeling of love. We flow in unison. We're together. I wish this was real. We want a universal level of togetherness, where we're comfortable with everyone. We're in rhythm. Part of a movement. A movement to escape. We wave goodbye. Ultimately, we just want to be happy.

Woody Allen in LOVE & DEATH

"So the biblical scholars mis-translated the Hebrew word for "young woman" into the Greek word for "virgin," which was a pretty easy mistake to make, since there is only a subtle difference in the spelling. But back then it was the "virgin" that caught people's attention. It's not every day a virgin conceives and bears a son. So you keep that for a couple of hundred years, and the nexy thing you know, you have the Roman Catholic church."