& Penelope Longstreet: It was incredible to see this child with no face left, no teeth. He just wouldn’t talk.
Nancy Cowan: I can just imagine...
Michael Longstreet: He didn’t wanna tell on the kid. His friends would say he’s a snitch. Let’s face it, Penny, it wasn’t just a sense of honor.
Penelope: Well, you could say that. Honor requires a social context.
Nancy: So how did you finally get Zachary’s name?
& Penelope: We explained to Ethan... that protecting this child was not gonna help him.
Michael: We told him if this kid thinks he can get away with hitting, why should he stop?
Penelope: We told him if we were this child’s parents, we would wanna know.
Nancy: Of course.
& Alan Cowan: What kind of cobbler did you make?
Penelope: Apple and pear.
Nancy: Apple and pear?
Penelope: Yeah. It’s, you know... It’s a little recipe of mine. But it’s a shame it’s cold.
Nancy: Apple and pear. That’s new to me.
Penelope: Apple and pear is a classic. Of course, there’s a twist to it.
Nancy: Oh, really?
Penelope: You have to cut the pears thicker than the apples because they cook faster.
Nancy: Oh, right.
Michael: She’s not telling you the real secret.
Penelope: Let them taste it.
Alan: Very good. Very good.
Nancy: Delicious.
Penelope: Gingerbread crumbs!
Nancy: Oh, my God.
Penelope: Well, it’s really just a souped-up old-school recipe. His mother gave me the idea.
Alan: Gingerbread. Fantastic. At least we get a new recipe out of this, right?
Penelope: I wish my son didn’t have to lose two teeth in the process...
Alan: Right. That’s what I meant.
Penelope: You have a novel way of expressing it.
& Penelope: The issue is, do they wanna talk about this? Do they wanna work this out?
Nancy: Ethan does.
Penelope: Does Zachary?
Nancy: We won’t give him a choice.
Penelope: It has to come from him.
Nancy: Zachary acts like a thug. We’re not gonna wait around for him to see the light.
Penelope: If Zachary sees Ethan in a punitive context because he’s forced to... I just don’t see anything positive coming out of that.
Alan: Mrs. Longstreet, our son is a maniac. If you hope he’ll suddenly and spontaneously get all apologetic... you’re dreaming.
& Nancy: I’m gonna throw up.
Alan: No, you’re not.
Nancy: I am.
Michael: You wanna use the bathroom?
& Michael: We called each other “Darjeeling” instead of “darling.”
& Nancy: Well, name-calling is a kind of abuse.
Michael: Sure.
Penelope: It depends!
Michael: Right. It depends.
& Penelope: I don’t think I can stand this tone anymore.
Alan: We’re not quite on the same page, you and I, right from the start.
Penelope: Mr. Cowan... it is incredibly frustrating to be continually upbraided... for something that we, ourselves, admitted was a mistake. The word “armed” wasn’t right. We took it out. Though, strictly speaking, it certainly applies.
& Michael: You know what? All this consultation and consideration shit... I’m sick to death of it. We were nice to you. We bought tulips. My wife dressed me up as a liberal, but the fact of the matter is... I got no patience for this touchy-feely bullshit. I am a short-tempered son of a bitch, okay?!
Alan: We all are...
Penelope: No, I’m sorry. We are not. We are not all short-tempered sons of bitches.
Alan: Not you, of course.
Penelope: No, not me. Thank God.
Michael: No, not you, Darjeeling. Not you. You’re so evolved. You never go off half-cocked.
& Michael: We’re born alone and we die alone, that’s it. Who wants a little Scotch?
& Alan: What did you expect, Doodle? That is a ridiculous nickname. Some revelation about universal values? This Scotch is unbelievable.
Michael: Right? You see that? Eighteen years old, single malt... from a place in Scotland still grows their own barley.
& Penelope: Alan. You see, you and I didn’t exactly hit it off... but I live with a man who has decided, once and for all... that life is synonymous with mediocrity. You know, it’s very hard to live with a man... who’s walled himself inside that idea... who doesn’t wanna change anything, who doesn’t get excited about anything.
Michael: What are you telling him this for? He could care less.
Penelope: We have to believe. We have to believe in some possible correction.
Michael: He’s the last guy on earth you should be telling this to.
Penelope: I’ll talk to anybody I damn well please!
& Alan: Penelope, nobody cares about anything outside himself. Sure, we’d all like to believe in some possible correction... one we could author ourselves... completely free of selfish consideration. Like your writing this book on Darfur. No. Which I think is great. You know. I understand how you might say: “Okay, I’ll pick a massacre. History’s full of them. I’m gonna write a book.” Everybody has to save himself somehow.
Penelope: I’m not writing this book to save myself! You haven’t read it. You don’t even know what’s in it.
Alan: Whatever.
& Penelope: I don’t know. Why...? Why can’t things be easier, you know? Why does everything have to be so exhausting?
Alan: You think too much. Women think too much.
Nancy: There’s an original response.
Penelope: I don’t know what that means, to think too much. You know, I don’t know how you can just go on living... with absolutely no moral sense of the world.
Michael: Look at me, I’m living.
Penelope: Oh, Michael, shut up. Your miserable complicity just disgusts me.
Michael: What happened to your sense of humor?
Penelope: I don’t have one and I don’t want one.
Michael: If you ask me... the couple is the worst ordeal God has ever inflicted on us.
Nancy: Marvelous.
Michael: The couple and the family.
Nancy: No one’s forcing you to air this out in front of us, Michael. And I might add, it’s a little indecent.
Penelope: That doesn’t bother him.
& Penelope: Don’t you tell me about Africa. I know all about suffering in Africa!
& Nancy: I’m glad our son kicked the shit out of your son and I wipe my ass with your human rights!
& Alan: I saw your friend Jane Fonda on TV the other day. Made me want to run out and buy a Ku Klux Klan poster.
--
+ quotes on the Imdb.
__ [one of] De best.
Nancy Cowan: I can just imagine...
Michael Longstreet: He didn’t wanna tell on the kid. His friends would say he’s a snitch. Let’s face it, Penny, it wasn’t just a sense of honor.
Penelope: Well, you could say that. Honor requires a social context.
Nancy: So how did you finally get Zachary’s name?
& Penelope: We explained to Ethan... that protecting this child was not gonna help him.
Michael: We told him if this kid thinks he can get away with hitting, why should he stop?
Penelope: We told him if we were this child’s parents, we would wanna know.
Nancy: Of course.
& Alan Cowan: What kind of cobbler did you make?
Penelope: Apple and pear.
Nancy: Apple and pear?
Penelope: Yeah. It’s, you know... It’s a little recipe of mine. But it’s a shame it’s cold.
Nancy: Apple and pear. That’s new to me.
Penelope: Apple and pear is a classic. Of course, there’s a twist to it.
Nancy: Oh, really?
Penelope: You have to cut the pears thicker than the apples because they cook faster.
Nancy: Oh, right.
Michael: She’s not telling you the real secret.
Penelope: Let them taste it.
Alan: Very good. Very good.
Nancy: Delicious.
Penelope: Gingerbread crumbs!
Nancy: Oh, my God.
Penelope: Well, it’s really just a souped-up old-school recipe. His mother gave me the idea.
Alan: Gingerbread. Fantastic. At least we get a new recipe out of this, right?
Penelope: I wish my son didn’t have to lose two teeth in the process...
Alan: Right. That’s what I meant.
Penelope: You have a novel way of expressing it.
& Penelope: The issue is, do they wanna talk about this? Do they wanna work this out?
Nancy: Ethan does.
Penelope: Does Zachary?
Nancy: We won’t give him a choice.
Penelope: It has to come from him.
Nancy: Zachary acts like a thug. We’re not gonna wait around for him to see the light.
Penelope: If Zachary sees Ethan in a punitive context because he’s forced to... I just don’t see anything positive coming out of that.
Alan: Mrs. Longstreet, our son is a maniac. If you hope he’ll suddenly and spontaneously get all apologetic... you’re dreaming.
& Nancy: I’m gonna throw up.
Alan: No, you’re not.
Nancy: I am.
Michael: You wanna use the bathroom?
& Michael: We called each other “Darjeeling” instead of “darling.”
& Nancy: Well, name-calling is a kind of abuse.
Michael: Sure.
Penelope: It depends!
Michael: Right. It depends.
& Penelope: I don’t think I can stand this tone anymore.
Alan: We’re not quite on the same page, you and I, right from the start.
Penelope: Mr. Cowan... it is incredibly frustrating to be continually upbraided... for something that we, ourselves, admitted was a mistake. The word “armed” wasn’t right. We took it out. Though, strictly speaking, it certainly applies.
& Michael: You know what? All this consultation and consideration shit... I’m sick to death of it. We were nice to you. We bought tulips. My wife dressed me up as a liberal, but the fact of the matter is... I got no patience for this touchy-feely bullshit. I am a short-tempered son of a bitch, okay?!
Alan: We all are...
Penelope: No, I’m sorry. We are not. We are not all short-tempered sons of bitches.
Alan: Not you, of course.
Penelope: No, not me. Thank God.
Michael: No, not you, Darjeeling. Not you. You’re so evolved. You never go off half-cocked.
& Michael: We’re born alone and we die alone, that’s it. Who wants a little Scotch?
& Alan: What did you expect, Doodle? That is a ridiculous nickname. Some revelation about universal values? This Scotch is unbelievable.
Michael: Right? You see that? Eighteen years old, single malt... from a place in Scotland still grows their own barley.
& Penelope: Alan. You see, you and I didn’t exactly hit it off... but I live with a man who has decided, once and for all... that life is synonymous with mediocrity. You know, it’s very hard to live with a man... who’s walled himself inside that idea... who doesn’t wanna change anything, who doesn’t get excited about anything.
Michael: What are you telling him this for? He could care less.
Penelope: We have to believe. We have to believe in some possible correction.
Michael: He’s the last guy on earth you should be telling this to.
Penelope: I’ll talk to anybody I damn well please!
& Alan: Penelope, nobody cares about anything outside himself. Sure, we’d all like to believe in some possible correction... one we could author ourselves... completely free of selfish consideration. Like your writing this book on Darfur. No. Which I think is great. You know. I understand how you might say: “Okay, I’ll pick a massacre. History’s full of them. I’m gonna write a book.” Everybody has to save himself somehow.
Penelope: I’m not writing this book to save myself! You haven’t read it. You don’t even know what’s in it.
Alan: Whatever.
& Penelope: I don’t know. Why...? Why can’t things be easier, you know? Why does everything have to be so exhausting?
Alan: You think too much. Women think too much.
Nancy: There’s an original response.
Penelope: I don’t know what that means, to think too much. You know, I don’t know how you can just go on living... with absolutely no moral sense of the world.
Michael: Look at me, I’m living.
Penelope: Oh, Michael, shut up. Your miserable complicity just disgusts me.
Michael: What happened to your sense of humor?
Penelope: I don’t have one and I don’t want one.
Michael: If you ask me... the couple is the worst ordeal God has ever inflicted on us.
Nancy: Marvelous.
Michael: The couple and the family.
Nancy: No one’s forcing you to air this out in front of us, Michael. And I might add, it’s a little indecent.
Penelope: That doesn’t bother him.
& Penelope: Don’t you tell me about Africa. I know all about suffering in Africa!
& Nancy: I’m glad our son kicked the shit out of your son and I wipe my ass with your human rights!
& Alan: I saw your friend Jane Fonda on TV the other day. Made me want to run out and buy a Ku Klux Klan poster.
--
+ quotes on the Imdb.
__ [one of] De best.
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий