Martha: What a dump. Hey, what's that from? "What a dump!"
Martha: Dumbbell. It's from some damn Bette Davis picture, some goddamn Warner Bros. Epic.
George: Martha, I can't remember all the pictures that came out of Warner Bros.
Martha: Nobody's asking you to remember every goddamn Warner Bros. Epic. Just one. Just one single little epic. That's all. Bette Davis gets peritonitis at the end. And she wears this big black fright wig all throughout the picture. And she's married to Joseph Cotten or something.
George: Somebody.
Martha: Somebody. ...
Martha: Why didn't you want to kiss me?!
George: All right, love. Whatever love wants.
George: Martha, rubbing alcohol for you?
Martha: Sure. "Never mix, never worry."
George: Good, better, best, bested. How do you like that for a declension, young man?
Nick: All right! What do you want me to say? Do you want me to say it's funny, so you can contradict me and say it's sad? Or do you want me to say it's sad so you can turn around and say, "No, it's funny"? You can play that damn little game any way you want to, you know.
Nick: Well, it's true, actually. She does throw up a lot.
George: The word is "often."
Nick: A what?
George: Beanbag. Beanbag. You wouldn't understand. A beanbag!
Nick: I heard you. I didn't say I was deaf, I said I didn't understand.
George: You didn't say that at all.
Nick: I meant I was implying I didn't understand.
George: All I said was that our son, the apple of our three eyes, Martha being a Cyclops...
Nick: Good advice? From you? Boy.
George: You haven't learned yet. Take it wherever you can get it. Listen to me now... I'm giving you good advice now... There's quicksand here and you'll be dragged down before you know it. Sucked down. You disgust me on principle, and you're a smug son of a bitch, personally, but I'm trying to give you a survival kit. Do you hear me?
George: Take the trouble to construct a civilization, to build a society based on the principles of... Of principle. You make government and art and realize that they are, must be, both the same. You bring things to the saddest of all points. To the point where there is something to lose. Then all at once, through all the music, through all the sensible sounds of men building, attempting, comes the Dies Irae.
Nick: And what is it? What does the trumpet sound?
George: Up yours.
Martha: George. My husband.... George, who is out somewhere there in the dark. Who is good to me, whom I revile. Who can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can change them. Who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy. Yes, I do wish to be happy. George and Martha... Sad, sad, sad... Sad. Whom I will not forgive for having come to rest. For having seen me and having said, "Yes, this will do." Who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me. I must be punished for it. George and Martha. Sad, sad, sad... Someday... Some night, some stupid liquor-ridden night, I will go too far. I'll either break the man's back or I'll push him off for good, which is what I deserve.
George: Truth and illusion. Who knows the difference, hey, toots?
Martha: Truth and illusion, George. You don't know the difference.
George: No, but we must carry on as though we did.
Martha: Amen.
George: One more game...
George: Pull yourself together! I want you on your feet and slugging because I'm gonna knock you around and I want you up for it.
Martha: All right, George. What do you want?!
George: An equal battle, baby, that's all.
Martha: You'll get it.
George: I want you mad.
Martha: I'm mad.
George: Get madder!
Martha: Don't worry about it!
George: Good girl. We'll play this one to the death.
Martha: Yours?
George: You'll be surprised.
George: We all peel labels, sweetie. Now, when you get through the skin, all three layers and through the muscle, and slosh aside the organs, them which is sloshable and get down to the bone, do you know what you do then?... When you get down to the bone you haven't got all the way yet. There's something inside the bone. The marrow. And that's what you got to get at... The marrow. But bones are pretty resilient, especially in the young. Now, take our son...
George: Some telegrams you have to deliver, Martha. Some telegrams, you cannot phone.
George: It's dawn. I think the party's over.
George: ♪ Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? Virginia Woolf, Virginia Woolf? ♪
Martha: I am, George.
George: ♪ Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? ♪
Martha: I am, George. I am.
--
++ Quotes on the IMDb
Martha: Dumbbell. It's from some damn Bette Davis picture, some goddamn Warner Bros. Epic.
George: Martha, I can't remember all the pictures that came out of Warner Bros.
Martha: Nobody's asking you to remember every goddamn Warner Bros. Epic. Just one. Just one single little epic. That's all. Bette Davis gets peritonitis at the end. And she wears this big black fright wig all throughout the picture. And she's married to Joseph Cotten or something.
George: Somebody.
Martha: Somebody. ...
Martha: Why didn't you want to kiss me?!
George: All right, love. Whatever love wants.
George: Martha, rubbing alcohol for you?
Martha: Sure. "Never mix, never worry."
George: Good, better, best, bested. How do you like that for a declension, young man?
Nick: All right! What do you want me to say? Do you want me to say it's funny, so you can contradict me and say it's sad? Or do you want me to say it's sad so you can turn around and say, "No, it's funny"? You can play that damn little game any way you want to, you know.
Nick: Well, it's true, actually. She does throw up a lot.
George: The word is "often."
Nick: A what?
George: Beanbag. Beanbag. You wouldn't understand. A beanbag!
Nick: I heard you. I didn't say I was deaf, I said I didn't understand.
George: You didn't say that at all.
Nick: I meant I was implying I didn't understand.
George: All I said was that our son, the apple of our three eyes, Martha being a Cyclops...
Nick: Good advice? From you? Boy.
George: You haven't learned yet. Take it wherever you can get it. Listen to me now... I'm giving you good advice now... There's quicksand here and you'll be dragged down before you know it. Sucked down. You disgust me on principle, and you're a smug son of a bitch, personally, but I'm trying to give you a survival kit. Do you hear me?
George: Take the trouble to construct a civilization, to build a society based on the principles of... Of principle. You make government and art and realize that they are, must be, both the same. You bring things to the saddest of all points. To the point where there is something to lose. Then all at once, through all the music, through all the sensible sounds of men building, attempting, comes the Dies Irae.
Nick: And what is it? What does the trumpet sound?
George: Up yours.
Martha: George. My husband.... George, who is out somewhere there in the dark. Who is good to me, whom I revile. Who can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can change them. Who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy. Yes, I do wish to be happy. George and Martha... Sad, sad, sad... Sad. Whom I will not forgive for having come to rest. For having seen me and having said, "Yes, this will do." Who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me. I must be punished for it. George and Martha. Sad, sad, sad... Someday... Some night, some stupid liquor-ridden night, I will go too far. I'll either break the man's back or I'll push him off for good, which is what I deserve.
George: Truth and illusion. Who knows the difference, hey, toots?
Martha: Truth and illusion, George. You don't know the difference.
George: No, but we must carry on as though we did.
Martha: Amen.
George: One more game...
George: Pull yourself together! I want you on your feet and slugging because I'm gonna knock you around and I want you up for it.
Martha: All right, George. What do you want?!
George: An equal battle, baby, that's all.
Martha: You'll get it.
George: I want you mad.
Martha: I'm mad.
George: Get madder!
Martha: Don't worry about it!
George: Good girl. We'll play this one to the death.
Martha: Yours?
George: You'll be surprised.
George: We all peel labels, sweetie. Now, when you get through the skin, all three layers and through the muscle, and slosh aside the organs, them which is sloshable and get down to the bone, do you know what you do then?... When you get down to the bone you haven't got all the way yet. There's something inside the bone. The marrow. And that's what you got to get at... The marrow. But bones are pretty resilient, especially in the young. Now, take our son...
George: Some telegrams you have to deliver, Martha. Some telegrams, you cannot phone.
George: It's dawn. I think the party's over.
George: ♪ Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? Virginia Woolf, Virginia Woolf? ♪
Martha: I am, George.
George: ♪ Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? ♪
Martha: I am, George. I am.
--
++ Quotes on the IMDb
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