Boris: That's not what I'm saying, you imbecile. God, you completely misrepresent my ideas! Why am I even bothering talking to such idiots?
Ed: Don't jump on us just because we don't understand what you're saying.
Boris: I didn't jump on you. It's not the idea behind Christianity I'm faulting, or Judaism, or any religion. It's the professionals who've made it into a corporate business. There's big money in the God racket. Big money.
Joe: Here we go...
Boris: Hey, the basic teachings of Jesus are quite wonderful. So, by the way, is the original intention of Karl Marx. Okay? Hey, what could be bad? Everybody should share equally. Do unto others. Democracy. Government by the people. All great ideas. These are all great ideas, but they all suffer from one fatal flaw... Which is they're all based on the fallacious notion that people are fundamentally decent. Give them a chance to do right and they'll take it. They're not stupid, selfish, greedy, cowardly, short-sighted worms. They do the best they can.
Boris: All I'm saying is that people make life so much worse than it has to be and, believe me, it's a nightmare without their help.
Joe: You know, they don't know your story. Boris, tell them your story.
Boris: My story is, whatever works. You know, as long as you don't hurt anybody. Any way you can filch a little joy in this cruel, dog-eat-dog, pointless, black chaos. That's my story.
Boris: You just want me to say it again, so they can hear.
- Who?
Boris: Them.
- Who?
- Who's them? You see something out there?
- Where?
Boris: What are you? An imbecile? There's an audience full of people looking at us.
- An audience?
- What's he talking about?
Boris: You feel you're being watched. They paid good money for tickets, hard-earned money, so some moron in Hollywood can buy a bigger swimming pool.
- Okay, you're saying there are human beings out there who bought tickets to watch us.
Boris: Well, mostly they're interested in me, I have to say. Yeah, they're just sitting there. Don't you see them? Some are eating popcorn, some are just staring straight ahead breathing through their mouths like Neanderthals.
Boris: Why would you want to hear my story? Do we know each other? Do we like each other? Let me tell you right off, okay? I'm not a likeable guy. Charm has never been a priority with me. And just so you know, this is not the feel-good movie of the year. So if you're one of those idiots who needs to feel good, go get yourself a foot massage.
Boris: What the hell does it all mean anyhow? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nothing comes to anything, and yet there's no shortage of idiots to babble. Not me. I have a vision. I'm discussing you. Your friends, your co-workers, your newspapers, the TV. Everybody's happy to talk, full of misinformation. Morality, science, religion, politics, sports, love. Your portfolio, your children, health. Christ. If I have to eat nine servings of fruits and vegetables a day to live, I don't want to live. I hate goddamn fruits and vegetables. And your omega-3's and the treadmill and the cardiogram and the mammogram and the pelvic sonogram and, oh, my God, the colonoscopy! And with it all, the day still comes when they put you in a box and it's on to the next generation of idiots who'll also tell you all about life and define for you what's appropriate.
Boris: My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror and corruption and ignorance and poverty and genocide and AIDS and global warming and terrorism and the family-value morons and the gun morons! "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness. "The horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle, then he'd see some horror.
Boris: I'm a man with a huge worldview. I'm surrounded by microbes!
Boris: Let's face it, Jessica, okay? Our marriage hasn't been a garden of roses. Botanically speaking, you're more of a Venus flytrap.
Boris: I see everything so clearly now. Everything! I married you for all the wrong reasons.
Jessica: What's that supposed to mean?
Boris: You're brilliant. I wanted someone to talk to. You loved classical music, you loved art, you loved literature. You loved sex! You loved me!
Jessica: Those sound like pretty good reasons to me!
Boris: Yes! Exactly! That's the problem! That's the problem! It was rational, it made sense! I don't know what went wrong. When you examine it, there is so much right about us. On paper we're ideal. But life isn't on paper.
Boris: Okay, forget blacks. Take Jews... For years they restricted the number of Jews in schools, medical schools. In America, as much as they hated blacks, they hate Jews even more. Blacks they were scared had too big a penis. Jews they hated, even with little penises.
Boris: Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Boris
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Boris
Happy birthday to you
Melody: Is this your birthday?
Boris: You don't know you have to sing Happy Birthday twice to get the germs off?
Boris: Look, you're a sweet kid. Stupid beyond all comprehension, but you'll never survive here. You got nothing going for you. Zero. Zilch. You know, you may be beauty contest material in the Deep South, but this is the big time. Here, you're a three. A five maybe after you bathe.
Melody: What is this?
Boris: A knish.
Melody: And what's it made of?
Boris: I've been eating these things for years, they're delicious. I don't know what's in them. I don't want to know what's in them. Don't even talk about it!
Melody: Well, here, I'll put something on TV.
Boris: I saw the abyss.
Melody: Don't worry, we'll watch something else.
Melody: So what kind of genius are you, anyway?
Boris: What kind?
Melody: Yeah, what are you genius at?
Boris: Quantum mechanics.
Melody: Yeah, but what field? Like, music?
Ed: Well, at least is she pretty?
Boris: She's won some beauty contests.
Ed: Tall? Short? Blonde? Describe her.
Boris: Well, she's blonde. Nice height. Nice eyes. Didn't quite realize how blue they were that first night. Her face is a little more symmetrical than I had originally conceived. She's not a ten. In a pinch, six.
Ed: Good in bed?
Boris: How would I know? I just want her out.
Boris: You know, it's been proven television eats away the brain.
Boris: Boy, they really don't write them like they used to.
Melody: Oh! That's a cliché.
Boris: Good, Melody. You caught it.
Melody: Well, you always get so mad when I do them.
Boris: Yeah, I shouldn't really. Sometimes a cliché is finally the best way to make one's point.
Melody: Boris, what would you say if I was to say that I was developing a little crush on you?
Boris: I'd say don't.
Melody: Why?
Boris: Because anything deeper, more significant between us, is out of the question.
Melody: Because why?
Boris: Because it's too preposterous to even dignify with an answer.
Melody: It is?
Boris: Every single thing is against it. Our ages, our backgrounds, our brains, our interests. Not to mention, I have no desire to have a relationship with a woman, any woman, nor any urge to make love, nor any desire to be anything but isolated from the world.
Boris: You're a beautiful girl who should be meeting normal healthy men and going out.
Melody: Yeah, but I don't like normal healthy men. I like you.
Melody: You really think I'm beautiful?
Boris: I admit I didn't give you your full due at first, physically. However, as only a great mind can do, I've reassessed my position, and changed my mind.
Melody: So you could never think of marrying me?
Boris: Have you lost your mind? Why on Earth would you even fantasize about such a thing? What could I offer you, but a bad temper, hypochondriasis, morbid fixations, reclusive rages and misanthropy? And what could you offer me?
Boris: Let me teach you something about love. Okay? Naturally, there are exceptions to what I'm going to say, but they're the exception, not the rule. Love, despite what they tell you, does not conquer all. Nor does it even usually last. In the end, the romantic aspirations of our youth are reduced to whatever works. Okay?
Melody: Why do I think your bark is worse than your bite?
Boris: Cliché, Melody.
Melody: Oh, I don't care! If the shoe fits, wear it, and that's another one.
Melody: It's Melody. Melody Saint Anne Celestine.
Perry: What a beautiful name! Mine's Perry Singleton.
Perry: May I walk along with you?
Melody: I don't see why not, you know, since we're all doomed anyway.
Perry: Pardon me?
Melody: Well, you know, everything ends.
Perry: I don't think I follow.
Melody: Well, you know, it's like the cosmos, or eternity. Whichever's bigger. I just know that we're all flying apart.
Melody: I told him your theory about capital punishment.
Boris: What did you say?
Melody: That it should include people that don't pick up after their dogs, people who ride their bikes on the sidewalk, people who call mothers "moms" and... I can't remember them all, you have so many.
Melody: How do I look?
Boris: Subnormal.
Melody: Why? What's wrong?
Boris: That's an awfully aggressive ensemble. You looking to wind up in an abortion clinic?
Boris: In America, they have summer camps for everything. Rich kids, basketball camp, magic camp... Tennis camp. Movie director camp! They should have a concentration camp. Two weeks mandatory for all kids growing up, so they would finally understand what the human race is capable of.
Leo: Brilliant! Except who'd send their kid to a concentration camp?
Boris: A responsible parent who wants their child to grasp reality.
Boris: A smoker. The minute a person dies, he's a smoker or overweight. Hey, I got news for you, thin non-smokers die, too. Okay? Abstinence isn't going to save you.
Joe: Now she's pretty?
Boris: What? I'm just saying she's not atrocious-looking. That's all. I'd say a seven or eight.
Melody: No, the music was fine. Just that guy and his friends! I just...
Boris: What?
Melody: Well, his taste! He just... He likes everything. Life, love, human beings! And the couple that we double-dated with, they were just protons!
Boris: Protons? Do I mean protons?
Melody: Cretins! Cretins, that's what I mean. Yeah, they didn't know the first thing about string theory.
Melody: I did have a few drinks. But can you blame me? Hanging out with those inchworms? I mean, they actually think that love is the answer to everything. I told them about Jethro Paige from back home. He got caught doing it with a sheep. Making love with a sheep. And they were all laughing and everything, but I just looked at them and said, "Folks, as Boris would say, whatever works." What are you looking at?
Boris: Unbelievable. The chance factor in life is mind-boggling. You entered the world by a random event somewhere along the Mississippi. I, having emerged through the conjoining of Sam and Yetta Yellnikoff in the Bronx, decades earlier. And through an astronomical concatenation of circumstances, our paths cross. Two runaways in the vast, black, unspeakably violent and indifferent universe.
Melody: I like music I can dance to.
Boris: I know, I know, but this is brutal. Here, you know what I want you to do? Put this on. Okay? And then when I come out, we'll discuss it.
Melody: All right, I'll try.
Boris: It's Beethoven's Fifth! Think of the music as fate knocking on the door. Maybe a little story will help you appreciate it.
Melody: Fate knocking on the door.....
Marietta: I have to have a drink. I need to sit. I need an anesthetic.
Melody: Okay, okay, have a seat. We don't have any bourbon or nothing.
Marietta: Just bring me the drink with the highest volume of alcohol you have.
Marietta: Why, why, Miss Sweet Pea? Why did you forsake your loving home?
Melody: Because, Mama, you're... You're overbearing. That's it. You're overbearing and you fail to see the big picture.
Marietta: What big picture are you talking about?
Melody: I don't know. All I know is that nothing moves faster than the speed of light, so you may as well relax.
Marietta: Are you on sodium pentothal?
Melody: No.
Marietta: That's what they do, the secular humanists.
Leo: You know, I have to say, even with a textbook right-wing mentality, your mother-in-law has beautifully shaped breasts.
Boris: You know, you're a man of learning, of cultivation of aesthetic sensibility. This is what you take away from the school-prayer hokum and "my country right or wrong"? Her bosom?
Leo: It's not just her bosom. Her behind is also beautifully contoured. .... It's pear-shaped. Degas used to distinguish between an apple-shaped behind and pear-shaped. And I'm a big fruit eater.
Boris: I need to sit for a minute... You know, I'm just doing it for the aerobics, anyway. Otherwise, it's moronic.
Melody: I think it's relaxing.
Boris: Relaxing? What? Are you kidding? It's too nerve-wracking. To mingle with all those sub-mentals on bicycles? It's like driving a car. Those hostile, belligerent morons all get driver's licenses. Of course, to have children, you don't need a license. No proof of anything. You need a license to fish. You need a license to be a barber. You need a license to sell hot dogs. You know, you read about these poor kids, beaten and starved, you wonder, why are these parents allowed to even have them?
Melody: You know, sometimes I think you're so determined not to enjoy anything in life, just out of spite. You know, like a child who's throwing a tantrum, because he can't have his own way.
Boris: Wow! Listen to you! That's a reasonably wise insight for a simple-minded type like yourself. Honestly. Yeah, you surprise and delight me sometimes, you know that? I really don't know what I'd do without you, seriously.
Randy: I dreamt about you last night. I...
Melody: Don't use that line. Because Boris said that he dreamt about me last night. And I really doubt it's mathematically possible for me to be in two dreams at one time.
Melody: Oh, my God.
Randy: What are you thinking?
Melody: Entropy.
Randy: Entropy?
Melody: Yeah, entropy. Boris explained it. It's why you can't get the toothpaste back in the tube.
Randy: You mean, once something happens, it's difficult to put it back the way it was?
Melody: I mean, Boris says love is all about luck. I think so, too, but isn't that just because we're young and we think we're going to live forever and then we grow old and get diabetes, and...
Randy: Maybe.
Melody: Look, I do agree there's not much you can be sure of in this world, but... Have you ever heard of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle?
Randy: I've heard of it, yeah.
Melody: You know, the observer influences the experiment? It's just like when my mother makes love to one of the guys she's living with a certain way when they're alone, but when she's in front of the other guy, she does it differently.
Randy: Is that Heisenberg? I had no idea he was so sexual.
Melody: Now, Dad, try and remember, you haven't seen Mom in a year.
John: A year is not forever. How much can a person change?
Boris: And with that, they entered the gallery.....
Melody: I can't think of a way to say this well.
Boris: You don't have to say it well.
Melody: I want to.
Boris: I completely understand. I do. This does not run counter to my convictions that love relationships are almost invariably transient.
Melody: I don't really think that's true if they're right.
Boris: Really? You have your own ideas?
Melody: Just a couple. You know, they're not very deep, but... As cruel as life is, I miss participating in the world. And I even miss people, even the inchworms and the cretins, because I don't really think they're bad, I think they're just scared.
Boris: I'm a profound and sensitive soul with an enormous grasp of the human condition.
Boris: Greatness isn't easy to live with, even by someone of normal intelligence.
Melody: You're upset. I don't expect you to understand. How could you?
Boris: Believe me, if I can understand quantum mechanics, I can certainly comprehend the thought process of a sub-mental baton twirler.
Melody: Boris...
Boris: It's okay. I knew this day would come. I really did. The universe is winding down. Why shouldn't we?
Helena: You must have a very dim view of the human race...
Boris: Oh, the human race. They've had to install automatic toilets in public restrooms, because people can't be entrusted to flush a toilet. Come on, flushing a toilet! They can't even flush a toilet!
Melody: What about you, Boris?
Boris: As you would say in the crude fashion of your generation, I totally lucked out. It just shows what meaningless blind chance the universe is. Everybody schemes and dreams to meet the right person, and I jump out a window and land on her. And a psychic yet! I mean, come on, talk about the irrational heart, not to mention I've developed a fondness for grits.
Melody: I have a question, am I a member of my generation?
Randy: Yes. Don't worry. I'll explain it to you.
Boris: I happen to hate New Year's celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That's why I can't say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works. And don't kid yourself, it's by no means all up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck than you'd like to admit. Christ, you know the odds of your father's one sperm from the billions, finding the single egg that made you? Don't think about it, you'll have a panic attack.
--
++ Quotes on the IMDb
+ Soundtracks!
Ed: Don't jump on us just because we don't understand what you're saying.
Boris: I didn't jump on you. It's not the idea behind Christianity I'm faulting, or Judaism, or any religion. It's the professionals who've made it into a corporate business. There's big money in the God racket. Big money.
Joe: Here we go...
Boris: Hey, the basic teachings of Jesus are quite wonderful. So, by the way, is the original intention of Karl Marx. Okay? Hey, what could be bad? Everybody should share equally. Do unto others. Democracy. Government by the people. All great ideas. These are all great ideas, but they all suffer from one fatal flaw... Which is they're all based on the fallacious notion that people are fundamentally decent. Give them a chance to do right and they'll take it. They're not stupid, selfish, greedy, cowardly, short-sighted worms. They do the best they can.
Boris: All I'm saying is that people make life so much worse than it has to be and, believe me, it's a nightmare without their help.
Joe: You know, they don't know your story. Boris, tell them your story.
Boris: My story is, whatever works. You know, as long as you don't hurt anybody. Any way you can filch a little joy in this cruel, dog-eat-dog, pointless, black chaos. That's my story.
Boris: You just want me to say it again, so they can hear.
- Who?
Boris: Them.
- Who?
- Who's them? You see something out there?
- Where?
Boris: What are you? An imbecile? There's an audience full of people looking at us.
- An audience?
- What's he talking about?
Boris: You feel you're being watched. They paid good money for tickets, hard-earned money, so some moron in Hollywood can buy a bigger swimming pool.
- Okay, you're saying there are human beings out there who bought tickets to watch us.
Boris: Well, mostly they're interested in me, I have to say. Yeah, they're just sitting there. Don't you see them? Some are eating popcorn, some are just staring straight ahead breathing through their mouths like Neanderthals.
Boris: Why would you want to hear my story? Do we know each other? Do we like each other? Let me tell you right off, okay? I'm not a likeable guy. Charm has never been a priority with me. And just so you know, this is not the feel-good movie of the year. So if you're one of those idiots who needs to feel good, go get yourself a foot massage.
Boris: What the hell does it all mean anyhow? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nothing comes to anything, and yet there's no shortage of idiots to babble. Not me. I have a vision. I'm discussing you. Your friends, your co-workers, your newspapers, the TV. Everybody's happy to talk, full of misinformation. Morality, science, religion, politics, sports, love. Your portfolio, your children, health. Christ. If I have to eat nine servings of fruits and vegetables a day to live, I don't want to live. I hate goddamn fruits and vegetables. And your omega-3's and the treadmill and the cardiogram and the mammogram and the pelvic sonogram and, oh, my God, the colonoscopy! And with it all, the day still comes when they put you in a box and it's on to the next generation of idiots who'll also tell you all about life and define for you what's appropriate.
Boris: My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror and corruption and ignorance and poverty and genocide and AIDS and global warming and terrorism and the family-value morons and the gun morons! "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness. "The horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle, then he'd see some horror.
Boris: I'm a man with a huge worldview. I'm surrounded by microbes!
Boris: Let's face it, Jessica, okay? Our marriage hasn't been a garden of roses. Botanically speaking, you're more of a Venus flytrap.
Boris: I see everything so clearly now. Everything! I married you for all the wrong reasons.
Jessica: What's that supposed to mean?
Boris: You're brilliant. I wanted someone to talk to. You loved classical music, you loved art, you loved literature. You loved sex! You loved me!
Jessica: Those sound like pretty good reasons to me!
Boris: Yes! Exactly! That's the problem! That's the problem! It was rational, it made sense! I don't know what went wrong. When you examine it, there is so much right about us. On paper we're ideal. But life isn't on paper.
Boris: Okay, forget blacks. Take Jews... For years they restricted the number of Jews in schools, medical schools. In America, as much as they hated blacks, they hate Jews even more. Blacks they were scared had too big a penis. Jews they hated, even with little penises.
Boris: Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Boris
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Boris
Happy birthday to you
Melody: Is this your birthday?
Boris: You don't know you have to sing Happy Birthday twice to get the germs off?
Boris: Look, you're a sweet kid. Stupid beyond all comprehension, but you'll never survive here. You got nothing going for you. Zero. Zilch. You know, you may be beauty contest material in the Deep South, but this is the big time. Here, you're a three. A five maybe after you bathe.
Melody: What is this?
Boris: A knish.
Melody: And what's it made of?
Boris: I've been eating these things for years, they're delicious. I don't know what's in them. I don't want to know what's in them. Don't even talk about it!
Melody: Well, here, I'll put something on TV.
Boris: I saw the abyss.
Melody: Don't worry, we'll watch something else.
Melody: So what kind of genius are you, anyway?
Boris: What kind?
Melody: Yeah, what are you genius at?
Boris: Quantum mechanics.
Melody: Yeah, but what field? Like, music?
Ed: Well, at least is she pretty?
Boris: She's won some beauty contests.
Ed: Tall? Short? Blonde? Describe her.
Boris: Well, she's blonde. Nice height. Nice eyes. Didn't quite realize how blue they were that first night. Her face is a little more symmetrical than I had originally conceived. She's not a ten. In a pinch, six.
Ed: Good in bed?
Boris: How would I know? I just want her out.
Boris: You know, it's been proven television eats away the brain.
Boris: Boy, they really don't write them like they used to.
Melody: Oh! That's a cliché.
Boris: Good, Melody. You caught it.
Melody: Well, you always get so mad when I do them.
Boris: Yeah, I shouldn't really. Sometimes a cliché is finally the best way to make one's point.
Melody: Boris, what would you say if I was to say that I was developing a little crush on you?
Boris: I'd say don't.
Melody: Why?
Boris: Because anything deeper, more significant between us, is out of the question.
Melody: Because why?
Boris: Because it's too preposterous to even dignify with an answer.
Melody: It is?
Boris: Every single thing is against it. Our ages, our backgrounds, our brains, our interests. Not to mention, I have no desire to have a relationship with a woman, any woman, nor any urge to make love, nor any desire to be anything but isolated from the world.
Boris: You're a beautiful girl who should be meeting normal healthy men and going out.
Melody: Yeah, but I don't like normal healthy men. I like you.
Melody: You really think I'm beautiful?
Boris: I admit I didn't give you your full due at first, physically. However, as only a great mind can do, I've reassessed my position, and changed my mind.
Melody: So you could never think of marrying me?
Boris: Have you lost your mind? Why on Earth would you even fantasize about such a thing? What could I offer you, but a bad temper, hypochondriasis, morbid fixations, reclusive rages and misanthropy? And what could you offer me?
Boris: Let me teach you something about love. Okay? Naturally, there are exceptions to what I'm going to say, but they're the exception, not the rule. Love, despite what they tell you, does not conquer all. Nor does it even usually last. In the end, the romantic aspirations of our youth are reduced to whatever works. Okay?
Melody: Why do I think your bark is worse than your bite?
Boris: Cliché, Melody.
Melody: Oh, I don't care! If the shoe fits, wear it, and that's another one.
Melody: It's Melody. Melody Saint Anne Celestine.
Perry: What a beautiful name! Mine's Perry Singleton.
Perry: May I walk along with you?
Melody: I don't see why not, you know, since we're all doomed anyway.
Perry: Pardon me?
Melody: Well, you know, everything ends.
Perry: I don't think I follow.
Melody: Well, you know, it's like the cosmos, or eternity. Whichever's bigger. I just know that we're all flying apart.
Melody: I told him your theory about capital punishment.
Boris: What did you say?
Melody: That it should include people that don't pick up after their dogs, people who ride their bikes on the sidewalk, people who call mothers "moms" and... I can't remember them all, you have so many.
Melody: How do I look?
Boris: Subnormal.
Melody: Why? What's wrong?
Boris: That's an awfully aggressive ensemble. You looking to wind up in an abortion clinic?
Boris: In America, they have summer camps for everything. Rich kids, basketball camp, magic camp... Tennis camp. Movie director camp! They should have a concentration camp. Two weeks mandatory for all kids growing up, so they would finally understand what the human race is capable of.
Leo: Brilliant! Except who'd send their kid to a concentration camp?
Boris: A responsible parent who wants their child to grasp reality.
Boris: A smoker. The minute a person dies, he's a smoker or overweight. Hey, I got news for you, thin non-smokers die, too. Okay? Abstinence isn't going to save you.
Joe: Now she's pretty?
Boris: What? I'm just saying she's not atrocious-looking. That's all. I'd say a seven or eight.
Melody: No, the music was fine. Just that guy and his friends! I just...
Boris: What?
Melody: Well, his taste! He just... He likes everything. Life, love, human beings! And the couple that we double-dated with, they were just protons!
Boris: Protons? Do I mean protons?
Melody: Cretins! Cretins, that's what I mean. Yeah, they didn't know the first thing about string theory.
Melody: I did have a few drinks. But can you blame me? Hanging out with those inchworms? I mean, they actually think that love is the answer to everything. I told them about Jethro Paige from back home. He got caught doing it with a sheep. Making love with a sheep. And they were all laughing and everything, but I just looked at them and said, "Folks, as Boris would say, whatever works." What are you looking at?
Boris: Unbelievable. The chance factor in life is mind-boggling. You entered the world by a random event somewhere along the Mississippi. I, having emerged through the conjoining of Sam and Yetta Yellnikoff in the Bronx, decades earlier. And through an astronomical concatenation of circumstances, our paths cross. Two runaways in the vast, black, unspeakably violent and indifferent universe.
Melody: I like music I can dance to.
Boris: I know, I know, but this is brutal. Here, you know what I want you to do? Put this on. Okay? And then when I come out, we'll discuss it.
Melody: All right, I'll try.
Boris: It's Beethoven's Fifth! Think of the music as fate knocking on the door. Maybe a little story will help you appreciate it.
Melody: Fate knocking on the door.....
Marietta: I have to have a drink. I need to sit. I need an anesthetic.
Melody: Okay, okay, have a seat. We don't have any bourbon or nothing.
Marietta: Just bring me the drink with the highest volume of alcohol you have.
Marietta: Why, why, Miss Sweet Pea? Why did you forsake your loving home?
Melody: Because, Mama, you're... You're overbearing. That's it. You're overbearing and you fail to see the big picture.
Marietta: What big picture are you talking about?
Melody: I don't know. All I know is that nothing moves faster than the speed of light, so you may as well relax.
Marietta: Are you on sodium pentothal?
Melody: No.
Marietta: That's what they do, the secular humanists.
Leo: You know, I have to say, even with a textbook right-wing mentality, your mother-in-law has beautifully shaped breasts.
Boris: You know, you're a man of learning, of cultivation of aesthetic sensibility. This is what you take away from the school-prayer hokum and "my country right or wrong"? Her bosom?
Leo: It's not just her bosom. Her behind is also beautifully contoured. .... It's pear-shaped. Degas used to distinguish between an apple-shaped behind and pear-shaped. And I'm a big fruit eater.
Boris: I need to sit for a minute... You know, I'm just doing it for the aerobics, anyway. Otherwise, it's moronic.
Melody: I think it's relaxing.
Boris: Relaxing? What? Are you kidding? It's too nerve-wracking. To mingle with all those sub-mentals on bicycles? It's like driving a car. Those hostile, belligerent morons all get driver's licenses. Of course, to have children, you don't need a license. No proof of anything. You need a license to fish. You need a license to be a barber. You need a license to sell hot dogs. You know, you read about these poor kids, beaten and starved, you wonder, why are these parents allowed to even have them?
Melody: You know, sometimes I think you're so determined not to enjoy anything in life, just out of spite. You know, like a child who's throwing a tantrum, because he can't have his own way.
Boris: Wow! Listen to you! That's a reasonably wise insight for a simple-minded type like yourself. Honestly. Yeah, you surprise and delight me sometimes, you know that? I really don't know what I'd do without you, seriously.
Randy: I dreamt about you last night. I...
Melody: Don't use that line. Because Boris said that he dreamt about me last night. And I really doubt it's mathematically possible for me to be in two dreams at one time.
Melody: Oh, my God.
Randy: What are you thinking?
Melody: Entropy.
Randy: Entropy?
Melody: Yeah, entropy. Boris explained it. It's why you can't get the toothpaste back in the tube.
Randy: You mean, once something happens, it's difficult to put it back the way it was?
Melody: I mean, Boris says love is all about luck. I think so, too, but isn't that just because we're young and we think we're going to live forever and then we grow old and get diabetes, and...
Randy: Maybe.
Melody: Look, I do agree there's not much you can be sure of in this world, but... Have you ever heard of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle?
Randy: I've heard of it, yeah.
Melody: You know, the observer influences the experiment? It's just like when my mother makes love to one of the guys she's living with a certain way when they're alone, but when she's in front of the other guy, she does it differently.
Randy: Is that Heisenberg? I had no idea he was so sexual.
Melody: Now, Dad, try and remember, you haven't seen Mom in a year.
John: A year is not forever. How much can a person change?
Boris: And with that, they entered the gallery.....
Melody: I can't think of a way to say this well.
Boris: You don't have to say it well.
Melody: I want to.
Boris: I completely understand. I do. This does not run counter to my convictions that love relationships are almost invariably transient.
Melody: I don't really think that's true if they're right.
Boris: Really? You have your own ideas?
Melody: Just a couple. You know, they're not very deep, but... As cruel as life is, I miss participating in the world. And I even miss people, even the inchworms and the cretins, because I don't really think they're bad, I think they're just scared.
Boris: I'm a profound and sensitive soul with an enormous grasp of the human condition.
Boris: Greatness isn't easy to live with, even by someone of normal intelligence.
Melody: You're upset. I don't expect you to understand. How could you?
Boris: Believe me, if I can understand quantum mechanics, I can certainly comprehend the thought process of a sub-mental baton twirler.
Melody: Boris...
Boris: It's okay. I knew this day would come. I really did. The universe is winding down. Why shouldn't we?
Helena: You must have a very dim view of the human race...
Boris: Oh, the human race. They've had to install automatic toilets in public restrooms, because people can't be entrusted to flush a toilet. Come on, flushing a toilet! They can't even flush a toilet!
Melody: What about you, Boris?
Boris: As you would say in the crude fashion of your generation, I totally lucked out. It just shows what meaningless blind chance the universe is. Everybody schemes and dreams to meet the right person, and I jump out a window and land on her. And a psychic yet! I mean, come on, talk about the irrational heart, not to mention I've developed a fondness for grits.
Melody: I have a question, am I a member of my generation?
Randy: Yes. Don't worry. I'll explain it to you.
Boris: I happen to hate New Year's celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That's why I can't say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works. And don't kid yourself, it's by no means all up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck than you'd like to admit. Christ, you know the odds of your father's one sperm from the billions, finding the single egg that made you? Don't think about it, you'll have a panic attack.
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++ Quotes on the IMDb
+ Soundtracks!
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