Short Movie Monologues Ten Things I hate About You written by Karen McCullah Lutz & Kirsten Smith; adapted from the play by William Shakespeare Kat

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Short Movie Monologues


Ten Things I Hate About You
written by Karen McCullah Lutz & Kirsten Smith; adapted from the play by William Shakespeare


Kat: I hate the way you talk to me. And the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare I hate your big dumb combat boots. And the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick-- it even makes me rhyme. I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh -- even worse when you make me cry. I hate it that you're not around. And the fact that you didnt call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you - - not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

That Thing You Do
written by Tom Hanks


Faye: Can I say something? [everyone stops to listen and she turns to Jimmy] Jimmy, from now on, you stay away from me. I've wasted thousands and thousands of kisses on you. Kisses that I thought were special because of your lips and your smile and all of your color and life. I used to think that was the real you when you smiled, but now I know that you don't mean any of it. You just save it for all of your songs. Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tight.

The Wizard of Oz
written by L. Frank Baum (novel), Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson, and Edgar Allan Woolf

Dorothy: But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you...and you were there. But you couldn't have been could you? No, Aunt Em, this was a real truly live place and I remember some of it wasn't very nice, but most of it was beautiful--but just the same all I kept saying to everybody was "I want to go home," and they sent me home! Doesn't anybody believe me? But anyway, Toto, we're home! Home. And this is my room, and you're all here and I'm not going to leave here ever, ever again. Because I love you all. And... Oh Auntie Em! There's no place like home!


White Oleander
written by Mary Agnes Donoghue, from the novel by Janet Fitch


Astrid: Everybody asks why I started at the end and worked back to the beginning. The reason is simple. I couldn't understand the beginning until I had reached the end. There were too many pieces of the puzzle missing, too much she would never tell. I could sell these things. People want to buy them. But I'd set it all on fire first. She'd like that. She'd make it just to burn it. I couldn’t afford this one, but the beginning deserves something special. But how do I show that nothing, not a taste, not a smell, not even the color of the sky has ever been as clear and sharp as it was when I belonged to her? I don’t know how to express that being with someone so dangerous was the last time I felt safe.
The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert that fall. Only the oleanders thrived. Maybe the wind was the reason my mother did what she did. If it was, I wouldn’t have known. I lived in her shadow then. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I know everybody thinks that when they’re small, but she was the most beautiful woman most people had ever seen. He came into our lives without warning. She ignored him at first; he wasn't her type. We laughed about him, his persistence. "Never let a man spend the night," she said. "Never apologize. Never explain." She was breaking all her rules and it would change everything.

Addams Family Values
written by Paul Rudnick, based on characters created by cartoonist Charles Addams

Debbie: I don't want to hurt anybody. I don't enjoy hurting anybody. I don't like guns or bombs or electric chairs, but sometimes people just won't listen and so I have to use persuasion, and slides. My parents, Sharon and Dave. Generous, doting, or were they? All I ever wanted was a Ballerina Barbie in her pretty pink tutu. My birthday, I was 10 and do you know what they got me? Malibu Barbie. That's not what I wanted, that's not who I was. I was a ballerina. Graceful. Delicate. They had to go. My first husband, the heart surgeon. All day long, coronaries, transplants. "Sorry about dinner, Deb, the Pope has a cold." Husband number 2: the senator. He loved his state. He loved his country. Sorry Debbie. No Mercedes this year. We have to set an example." Oh yeah. Set this! My latest husband. My late, late husband Fester, and his adorable family. You took me in. You accepted me. But did any of you love me? I mean, really love me? So I killed. So I maimed. So I destroyed one innocent life after another. Aren't I a human being? Don't I yearn and ache...and shop? Don't I deserve love...and jewelry? Good-bye everybody. Wish me luck.


Breakfast at Tiffany's
written by George Axelrod, novel by Truman Capote


Holly: Look, I know what you think. And I don't blame you, I've always thrown out such a jazzy line. But really...except for Doc...and you...Jose is my first non-rat romance. Oh, not that he's my ideal of the absolute finito. He tells little lies and worries about what people think and he wants to be the President of Brazil. I mean it's such a useless thing for a grown man to want to be and takes about fifty baths a day. I think a man should smell...at least a little bit. No, he's too prim and cautious to be my absolute ideal. If I were free to choose from anybody alive...just snap my fingers and say "Come here, you!"...I wouldn't pick Jose. Nehru maybe...or Adlai Stevenson or Sidney Poiter or Leonard Bernstein...but I do love Jose. I honestly think I'd give up smoking if he asked me to!

Clueless
written by Amy Heckerling


Cher: So, OK, like right now, for example, the Haitians need to come to America. But some people are all "What about the strain on our resources?" But it's like, when I had this garden party for my father's birthday right? I said R.S.V.P. because it was a sit-down dinner. But people came that like, did not R.S.V.P. so I was like, totally buggin'. I had to haul butt to the kitchen, redistribute the food, squish in extra place settings, but by the end of the day it was like, the more the merrier! And so, if the government could just get to the kitchen, rearrange some things, we could certainly party with the Haitians. And in conclusion, may I please remind you that it does not say R.S.V.P. on the Statue of Liberty?

Clueless
written by Amy Heckerling

Cher: (voice-over) Everything I think and everything I do is wrong. I was wrong about Elton, I was wrong about Christian, and now Josh hated me. It all boiled down to one inevitable conclusion, I was just totally clueless... Oh and this whole Josh and Ty thing was wiggin' me more than anything. I mean, what was my problem? Ty is my pal, I don't begrudge her a boyfriend. I really... (looks into a store window) Oooh! I wonder if they have that in my size! (comes out of the store with bags in tow) What does she want with Josh anyway? He dresses funny, he listens to complaint rock, he's not even cute in a conventional way... I mean, he's just like this slug that hangs around the house all the time! Ugh! And he's a hideous dancer, couldn't take him anywhere. Wait a second, what am I stressing about, this is like, Josh. Okay, okay......so he's kind of a Baldwin. What would he want with Ty, she couldn't make him happy, Josh needs someone with imagination, someone to take care of him, someone to laugh at his jokes in case he ever makes any...the suddenly....(pause) Oh my god! I love Josh! I'm majorly, totally, butt crazy in love with Josh! But now I don't know how to act around him. I mean normally I'd strut around in my cutest little outfits, and send myself flowers and candy but I couldn't do that stuff with Josh.


Freaky Friday
written by Heather Hach and Leslie Dixon, from the novel by Mary Rodgers


Tess (as her daughter Anna): Mr. Bates, may I please speak with you? By what stretch of the imagination . . . I mean, like, how could I, like, get an “F”? I mean, what mistakes did I make? That was a college-level analysis. In a matter of fact I most certainly am qualified of making that point. "As in Hamlet, ‘what’s done is done’"? That’s "Macbeth," you know-nothing twit. Bates. Elton Bates. Griffith High School. Well, you asked me, I mean, my mom to the prom, but she turned you down. And now you’re taking it out on her daughter, aren’t you? Aren’t you?! Oh come on, it was high school dance. I mean, you’ve got to let go and move on, man. And if you don’t, I’m ! sure the school board would love to hear about your pathetic vendetta against an innocent student. Oh, and by the way Elton, she had a boyfriend, and you were weird.

Freaky Friday
written by Heather Hach and Leslie Dixon, from the novel by Mary Rodgers

Anna (as Tess): Well, of course we’re tired because of our demanding and hectic ... Do you want to know why adults are so tired all the time? Because they spend their time obsessing about these stupid, lame things they don't really have to do. Like cooking. I mean, have you never heard of takeout? And cleaning? Let's don’t and say we did! And quality time with your kids? You know what? Quit bugging 'em! Leave 'em alone! They like it! Hello? It's called reading between the lines! Try listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Vines, The Breeders. And if you're excited about something, why do you have to hold it in all the time? You know, just scream about it! Okay, do this with me, all right? Let's just say this cute guy asks you out. What are you gonna do? Whoo! Come on, that was pathetic!! You know, you keep all that bottled up, no wonder you're getting old! I'm serious, this guy is hot! What are you gonna do? Whooo!

The Holiday
written by Nancy Meyers


Iris: I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas', the worst Birthday's, New Years Eve's brought in by tears and valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms. I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.


Mommie Dearest
written by Robert Getchell, Tracy Hotchner, Frank Perry, & Frank Yablans, from the book by Christina Crawford


Joan Crawford: No wire hangers! What's wire hangers doing in this closet when I told you no wire hangers?! EVER!!!! I work till I'm half dead and I hear people say she's getting old! What do I get ? A daughter who cares as much about a beautiful dress I give her as she cares about me. What's wire hangers doing in this closet?! Answer me! I buy you beautiful dresses and you treat 'em like some dishrag! You threw a 300 dollar dress on a wire hanger! We'll see how many you got hidden in here, we'll see! All of this is coming out! Out! Out! Out! Out! We're gonna see how many wire hangers you got in your closet! Wire hangers. Why? Why? Christina, get out of that bed! Get out of that bed! (picks up hanger and begins to beat Christina) You live in the most beautiful house in Brentwood and you dont care about crease marks from wire hangers, and your room looks like some two dollar unfurnished room in some two- bit backstreet town in Oklahoma! Get up! Clean up this mess! Did you scrub the bathroom floor today? Did you?

Million Dollar Baby
written by Paul Haggis, from the stories by F.X. Toole

Maggie Fitzgerald: I'm 32, Mr. Dunn, and I'm here celebrating the fact that I spent another year scraping dishes and waitressing which is what I've been doing since 13, and according to you I'll be 37 before I can even throw a decent punch, which I have to admit, after working on this speed bag for a month may be the God's simple truth. Other truth is, my brother's in prison, my sister cheats on welfare by pretending one of her babies is still alive, my daddy's dead, and my momma weighs 312 pounds. If I was thinking straight I'd go back home, find a used trailer, buy a deep fryer and some Oreos. Problem is, this the only thing I ever felt good doing. If I'm too old for this then I got nothing. That enough truth to suit you?


Million Dollar Baby
written by Paul Haggis, from the stories by F.X. Toole


Maggie Fitzgerald: I can't be like this, Frankie. Not after what I've done. I've seen the world. People chanted my name. Well, not my name, some damn name you gave me. But they were chanting for me. I was in magazines. You think I ever dreamed that'd happen? I was born at two pounds, one-and-a-half ounces. Daddy used to tell me I fought into this world, and I'd fight my way out. That's all I wanna do, Frankie. I just don't wanna fight you to do it. I got what I needed. I got it all. Don't let 'em keep taking it away from me. Don't let me lie here 'till I can't hear those people chanting no more.

The Princess Diaries
written by Gina Wendkos, from the novel by Meg Cabot


Mia: Hi, um... hello. I'm Mia. Um, it's stopped raining! I'm really no good at speech-making. Normally I get so nervous that I faint or run away, or sometimes I even get sick. But you really didn't need to know that... But I'm not so afraid anymore. See, my father helped me. Earlier this evening had every intention of giving up my claim to the throne. And my mother 0helped me, by telling me it was ok, and by supporting me like she has for my entire life. But then I wondered how I'd feel after abdicating my role as Princess of Genovia. Would I feel relieved, or would I feel sad? And then I realized how many stupid times a day I use the word 'I.' And probably all I ever do is think about myself. And how lame is that when there's like seven billion other people out there on the planet, and... sorry, I'm going too fast. But then I thought, if I cared about the other seven billion out there, instead of just me, that's probably a much better use of my time.

See, if i were Princess of Genovia, then my thoughts and the thoughts of people smarter than me would be much better heard, and just maybe those thoughts could be turned into actions. So this morning when I woke up, I was Mia Thermopolis. But now I choose to be forevermore, Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia.


Romy & Michele's High School Reunion
written by Robin Schiff


Romy: Okay, we're working in this advertising agency after college. Yeah, and we have like this big presentation to make to like a client. So, so we're like brainstorming and all of a sudden, we're out of paper clips. And so, okay so then I, I say okay, wouldn't it be great if there was like this like stickum on the back of this paper. So like it, it would just...if I laid it on top of that other paper,it would just stay, you know, like without a paper clip. Oh, so then you've got like this grandfather or this uncle, that has like a, like a paper company or a paper mill, and, and he's like really into it, and the rest is history. Oh my God, it is perfect!

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby
written by Will Ferrell & Adam McKay


Susan: It's because it's what you love, Ricky. It is who you were born to be. And here you sit. Thinking. Well, Ricky Bobby is not a thinker. Ricky Bobby is a driver. He is a doer, and that's what you need to do. You don't need to think. You need to drive. You need speed. You need to go out there, and you need to rev your engine. You need to fire it up. You need to grab ahold of that line between speed and chaos, and you need to wrestle it to the ground like a demon cobra. And then, when the fear rises up in your belly, you use it. And you know that fear is powerful, because it has been there for billions of years. And it is good. And you use it. And you ride it; you ride it like a skeleton horse through the gates of hell, and then you win, Ricky. You WIN! And you don't win for anybody else. You win for you, you know why? Because a man takes what he wants. He takes it all. And you're a man, aren't you? Aren't you?

Terminator 2: Judgement Day
written by James Cameron

Sarah: Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear. The Terminator would never stop. It would never leave him. It would always be there. And it would never hurt him, never shout at him or get drunk and hit him, or say it couldn't spend time with him because it was too busy. And it would die to protect him. Of all the would-be fathers who came and went over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only one who measured up. In an insane world, it was the sanest choice.


Terminator 2: Judgement Day
written by James Cameron & William Wisher Jr.


(Sarah is watching herself interviewed on video while smoking a cigarette)
Sarah Connor: It's like a giant strobe light, burning right through my eyes, but somehow I can still see. Look, you know the dream's the same every night, why do I have to...(the doctor encourages her to continue) The children look like burnt paper, black, not moving. And then, the blast wave hits them and they fly apart like leaves...It's not a dream, you moron, it's real. I know the date it happens...on August 29th, 1997, (exploding with panicked hysterical rage) it's gonna feel pretty REAL to you, too! Anybody not wearing two million sunblock is gonna have a real bad day, get it?!...You think you're safe and alive. You're already dead. Everybody, him, you, you're dead already. This whole place. Everything you see is gone. You're the one livin' in a dream, Silverman! Because I know it happens. IT HAPPENS! (the video is paused on her angry hysterics)
Sarah: I feel much better now. Clearer.

V for Vendetta
written by Andy Wachowski & Larry Wachowski, from characters created by Alan Moore & David Lloyd

Evey: "Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, / The Gunpowder Treason and Plot... / I know of no reason / Why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot..." But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in his 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.


Kids in the Hall
from the TV series created by Dave Foley, Kevin McDonald, Bruce = McCulloch, Mark McKinney and Scott Thompson


Mass Murderer: The difficult thing about being a mass murderer = isn't the murdering part. It's the mass part. It's the pace you've gotta = keep up, the sheer volume of murdering. 'Cause the funny thing about = killing: After the first time you've killed, the second time it's easy. = The third time you start to get cocky, so you gotta be careful. You = know, you gotta stay humble or you make dumb mistakes. And, oh, by = around the seventh time you're likely to feel like you're in a bit of a rut. Want to get artistic with it, you know, start cutting off the = middle toe of each victim so you'll be known as "The Middle Toe = Murderer." By that point, I don't know, I think that's showboating. You = know, you gotta ask yourself: "Who am I doing this for? Am I doing it = for myself or for the press?" Around about the twentieth murder, well, = you're likely to be sick of the whole thing. You know, sometimes I don't = even want to look at another corpse. I feel if I even see a chainsaw, = I'll scream. It's like what happened the other day: I had just finished = ending a human life in a senseless act of violence when I run into this = old friend of mine from high school. And he says, "Hey! Whatcha been = doin'?" And I think to myself, "What HAVE I been doing? What am I doing = with my life? Where's this leading? Am I gonna be doing this at fifty?" = Sometimes I think I really should go back to college.

Hitch
written by Kevin Bisch


Hitch: Basic principles - no woman wakes up saying "God, I hope I don't get swept off my feet today!" Now, she might say "This is a really bad time for me," or something like "I just need some space," or my personal favorite "I'm really into my career right now." You believe that? Neither does she. You know why? 'Cause she's lying to you, that's why. You understand me? Lying! It's not a bad time for her. She doesn't need any space. And she may be into her career, but what she's really saying is "Uh, get away from me now," or possibly "Try harder, stupid," but which one is it? 60% of all human communication is non-verbal, body language; 30% is your tone, so that means 90% of what you're saying ain't coming out of your mouth. Of course she's going to lie to you! She's a nice person! She doesn't want to hurt your feelings! What else she going to say? She doesn't even know you... yet. Luckily, the fact is that just like the rest of us, even a beautiful woman doesn't know what she wants until she sees it, and that's where I come in. My job is to open her eyes. Basic Principles - no matter what, no matter when, no matter who... any man has a chance to sweep any woman off her feet; he just needs the right broom.


Aladdin
written by Roger Allers, Ron Clements, Ted Elliott, John Musker, & Terry Rossio


Merchant: Ah, Salaam and good evening to you worthy friend.Please, please, come closer--(camera zooms in, squishing his face) Too close, a little too close. (camera zooms back) There.Welcome to Agrabah. City of mystery, of enchantment...and the finest merchandise this side of the river Jordan, on sale today, come on down! Heh, heh. Look at this! Yes! Combination hookah and coffee maker, also makes Julienne fries. Will not break! (taps it on table) Will not! (it falls apart) It broke! Ooohhh! Look at this! (pulls out a Tupperware container) I have never seen one of these intact before. This is the famous Dead Sea Tupperware. Listen. (opens it and he makes the tupperware squeaky sound out of the corner of his mouth) Ah, still good. Wait, don't go! I can see that you're only interested in the exceptionally rare. I think then, you would be most rewarded to consider...this. (pulls the magic lamp out from his sleeve) Do not be fooled by its common place appearance. Like so many things, it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts. This is no ordinary lamp! It once changed the course of a young man's life. A young man who, like this lamp, was more than what he seemed. A diamond in the rough. Perhaps you would like to hear the tale? It begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits, with a dark purpose...

Aladdin
written by Roger Allers, Ron Clements, Ted Elliott, John Musker, & Terry Rossio

Genie: Aaaaahhhhh! OY! Ten-thousand years will give ya such a crick in the neck! Whoa! Does it feel good to be outta there! (pretends to have a microphone) Nice to be back, ladies and gentlemen. (to Aladdin) Hi, where ya from? What's your name? Aladdin! Hello, Aladdin. Nice to have you on the show. Can we call you 'Al?' Or maybe just 'Din?' Or howbout 'Laddi?' (suddenly is wearing a kilt) Sounds like "Here, boy! C'mon, Laddi!" Do you smoke? Mind if I do? Oh, sorry Cheetah, hope I didn't singe the fur! Hey, Rugman! Haven't seen you in a few millennia! Slap me some tassel! Yo! Yeah! (high-fives carpet) Say, you're a lot smaller than my last master. Either that or I'm gettin' bigger. Look at me from the side, do I look different to you? That's right, you're my master! He can be taught!! What would you wish of me, (as Arnold Schwarzenegger) the ever impressive, (inside a cube) the long contained, (as a ventriloquist with a dummy) often imitated, but never duplicated....he multiplies into about 7 different Genies)...duplicated, duplicated, duplicated, duplicated, duplicated, duplicated, duplicated, duplicated, duplicated.... Genie! Of! The Lamp! (as Ed Sullivan) Right here direct from the lamp, right here for your enjoyment wish fulfillment. Thank youuuuu! (back) You get three wishes to be exact. And ix-nay on the wishing for more wishes. That's it, three. Uno, dos, tres. No substitutions, exchanges or refunds. Master, I don't think you quite realize what you've got here! So why don't you just ruminate, while I illuminate the possibilities!


Almost Famous
written by Cameron Crowe


Lester Bangs: You know, because once you go to LA, you're gonna have friends like crazy. But they're gonna be fake friends. They're gonna try to corrupt you. You know, you got an honest face, and they're gonna tell you everything. But you CANNOT make friends with the rock stars. If you're gonna be a true journalist, you know, a rock journalist - first you never get paid much. But you will get free records from the record company. There's just (chuckles) nothin' about you that is controversial, man. God, it's gonna get ugly, man. They're gonna buy you drinks. You're gonna meet girls, they're gonna fly you places for free, offer you drugs--I know, it sounds great, but these people are not your friends. These are people who want you to write sanctimonious stories about the genius of rock stars, and they will ruin rock 'n' roll and strangle everything we love about it, y'know. 'Cause they are trying to buy respectability for a form that is gloriously And righteously dumb. Now, you're smart enough to know that. And the day it ceases to be dumb is the day that it ceases to be real, right? And then it just becomes an industry of...cool. I'm tellin' you, you're coming along at a very dangerous time for rock 'n' roll. I mean, the war is over. They won. And 99% of what passes for rock 'n' roll these days, silence is more compelling. That's why I think you should just turn around and go back, you know, and be a lawyer or something. (William's face drops) But I can tell from your face that you won't. I can give you 35 bucks. Give me a thousand words on Black Sabbath.

American Psycho
written by Mary Harron & Guinevere Turner, from the novel by Bret Easton Ellis

Patrick Bateman: I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st street. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I'll put on an ice pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now. After I remove the ice pack, I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower, I use a water activated gel cleanser. Then a honey almond body scrub. And on the face, an exfoliating gel scrub. Then apply an herb mint facial mask, which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our life styles are probably comparable, I simply am not there.


Breakfast at Tiffany's
written by George Axelrod, novel by Truman Capote


Paul Varjak: You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to eachother, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.

Dead Poets Society
written by Tom Schulman

Mr. Keating: In my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savor words and languages. No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. I see that look in Mr Pitts' eyes like 19th century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school, right? Maybe. You may agree and think yes, we should study our Mr. Pritcher and learn our rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions. Well, I have a secret for you. Huddle Up...Huddle UP! We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business these are all noble pursuits necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, and love; these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman "Oh me, Oh life of the question of these recurring. of the endless trains of the faithless of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these? Oh me, Oh life." "Answer...that you are here and life exists....You are here. Life exists, and identity. The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse." The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?


Fast Times at Ridgemont High
written by Cameron Crowe


Mike Damone: First of all Rat, you never let on how much you like a girl. "Oh, Debbie. Hi." Two, you always call the shots. "Kiss me. You won't regret it." Now three, act like wherever you are, that's the place to be. "Isn't this great?" Four, when ordering food, you find out what she wants, then order for the both of you. It's a classy move. "Now, the lady will have the linguini and white clam sauce, and a Coke with no ice." And five, now this is the most important, Rat. When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.

The Matrix
written by Andy Wachowski & Larry Wachowski


Neo: I know you're out there. I can feel you now. I know that you're afraid. You're afraid of us. You're afraid of change. I don't know the future. I didn't come here to tell you how this is going to end. I came here to tell you how it's going to begin. I'm going to hang up this phone, and then I'm going to show these people what you don't want them to see. I'm going to show them a world without you. A world without rules and controls, without borders or boundaries. A world where anything is possible. Where we go from there is a choice I leave to you

Ferris Bueller's Day Off
written by John Hughes


Ferris Bueller: The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. It's a good non-specific symptom. A lot of people will tell you that a phony fever is a dead lock, but if you get a nervous mother, you could land in the doctor's office. That's worse than school. What you do is, you fake a stomach cramp, and when you're bent over, moaning and wailing, (confidentally) you lick your palms. It's a little childish and stupid, but then, so is high school.

I did have a test today. That wasn't bull. It's on European socialism. I mean, really, what's the point? I'm not European, I don't plan on being European, so who gives a crap if they're socialist? They could be fascist anarchists - that still wouldn't change the fact that I don't own a car. Not that I condone fascism, or any ism for that matter. Isms in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an ism - he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon: "I don't believe in Beatles - I just believe in me." A good point there. Of course, he was the Walrus. I could be the Walrus - I'd still have to bum rides off of people


The Goonies
written by Chris Columbus, story by Steven Spielberg


Francis Fratelli (Joe Pantoliano): Tell us everything! Everything!
Chunk: Everything. Okay! I'll talk! In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog...When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out...But the worst thing I ever done -- I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa -- and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.

Jerry Maguire
written by Cameron Crowe


Jerry: Why are you with me, Rod? Don't you get it? Can't you see? I'm a loser! You like this coat Rod? You like it? You want it? Well, you can have it! Because I don't need it. Because I am cloaked in failure! I lost the number one draft pick the night before the draft! I'm a cautionary tale. I've become...I don't even know.... And why? Because a hockey player's son made me feel like a superficial jerk! I had two slices of bad pizza, went to bed a grew a conscience. I'm nothing.

Jerry Maguire
written by Cameron Crowe

Jerry: Don't worry... (laughs) don't worry. I'm not gonna do... what you all think i'm gonna do, which is just FLIP OUT!! (he throws his arms in the air and shakes, sending papers flying) But let me just say, as I ease out of the office, that i helped build... I'm sorry, but it is a FACT... that there is such a thing... as manners. A way of treating people. (a pause, he nods, looks around, sees the fish tank) These fish have manners. These fish have manners. In fact, they're coming with me. I'm starting a new company, and the fish are coming with me. You can (chuckle) call me sentimental, but the fish are coming with me.

(he takes a long beat scooping two goldfish into a plastic baggie)
Now. If you come with me, this will be the moment of something new, and fun, and inspiring in this GOD FORSAKEN business. And we will do it together. So... who's coming with me? who's coming with me and (he points at the baggie, thinks) flipper, here? Huh? (he makes little finger gestures) Who's coming with me? WHO'S COMING WITH ME? (A beat, everyone in the office stares in silence) This is embarrassing. (a slight pause) Wendy, shall we?

Jerry Maguire
written by Cameron Crowe

Jerry: Who had I become? Just another shark in a suit? Two nights later at a conference in miami I had a breakdown. Breakdown? Breakthrough. I couldn't escape one single thought: I hated myself. No,no, here's what it was: I hated my place in the world. I had so much to say and no one to listen. And then, suddenly, it happened. It was the oddest, most out-of-the-ordinary thing. I began writing what they call a mission statement. Not a memo, a mission statement. You know, a suggestion for the future of our company. It was great. Suddenly, I was my father's son again. I was remembering the simple pleasures of this job, how I ended up here out of law school, the way a stadium sounds when one of my clients performs well on the field. I was even remembering the words of the original sports agent, my mentor, the late, great, Dickie Fox who said "The key to this business is personal relationships." And suddenly, it was all very clear. The answer was less money. Fewer clients. Caring about them, caring about ourselves, and the games, too. Starting our lives, really. I'll be the first to admit, what I was writing was somewhat- touchy feely. I didn't care. I had lost the ability to bullshit. It was the me I had always wanted to be.I ran out in the middle of the night to find an all nitght fotomat before i could change my mind. It looked incredible. Even the cover looked like The Catcher in the Rye. I entitled it "The Things We Think and Do Not Say: The Future of Our Business."


School of Rock
written by Mike White


Dewey Finn: You want me to teach you something? What? You want to learn something? Alright, here's a useful lesson: Give up! Just quit! Because in this life you can't win. Yeah, you can try, but in the end your just gonna loose, BIG TIME! Because the world is run by the man!
Frankie (Angelo Massagli): Who?
Dewey: The man. Oh, you don't know the man? The man's everywhere: in the White House, down the hall, Miss Mullins; she's the man! And the man ruined the ozone, and he's burning down the Amazon and he kidnapped Shamu and put her in a chlorine tank! Okay! And there used to be a way to stick it to the man, it was called rock 'n roll. But guess what? Oh no! The man had to ruin that too with a little thing called MTV! So don't waste your time trying to make anything cool or pure or awesome 'cause the man's just gonna call you a fat washed up loser and crush your soul. So do yourself a favor and just give up!

12 Monkeys
written by David Webb Peoples & Janet Peoples (based on La Jetee by Chris Marker)


Goines: Here's my theory on this. When I was institutionalized, my brain was exhausted laid by the guys of mental health. I was interrogated. I was x-rayed. I was examined thoroughly. then they took everything about me and put it into a computer where they created a model of my mind. Yes! Using that model, they managed to generate every thought that I could possibly have in the next, say, ten years. Which they then filtered through a probability matrix of some kind to determine everything I was gonna do in that period. So you see, she knew I was going to lead the Twelve Monkeys into the pages of history before it ever even occured to me. So, she knows everything I'm ever gonna do before I ever know it myself. How's that?

Goines: Take germs for example.
Cole (Bruce Willis): Germs?

Goines: Uh-huh. Eighteenth century, no such thing. Nada. Nothing. No one ever imagined such a thing. No sane person. Ah-uh-huh. Along comes this doctor ah-ah-ah Semmelweiss, Semmelweiss. Semmelweiss comes along. He's trying to convince people, well doctors mainly, that's there's teeny, tiny invisible bad things called "germs" that get into your body and make you sick. He's trying to get doctors to wash their hands. What is this guy? Crazy? Teeny, tiny, invisible? What do they call it? Uh-uh, germs? Huh? What? Now, up to the 20th century, last week, as a matter of fact (before I got dragged into this hellhole). I go in to order a burger at this fast food joint, and the guy drops it on the floor. James, he picks it up, wipes it off. He hands it to me like it's all okay. "What about the germs?" I say. He says, "I don't believe in germs. Germs is a plot made up so they could sell disinfectants and soaps." Now he's crazy, right?


V for Vendetta
written by Andy Wachowski & Larry Wachowski, from characters created by Alan Moore & David Lloyd


V: Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of the everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration - whereby those important events of the past, usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, are celebrated with a nice holiday - I thought we could mark this November the fifth, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat.
There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now orders are being shouted into telephones and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there?
Cruelty and injustice...intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance, coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told...if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.

I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War. Terror. Disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you and in your panic, you turned to the now High Chancellor Adam Sutler. He promised you order. He promised you peace. And all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent.

Last night, I sought to end that silence. Last night, I destroyed the Old Bailey to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago, a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice and freedom are more than words - they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest that you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek...then I ask you to stand beside me, one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament. And together, we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever, be forgot!

Wayne's World 2
written by Mike Myers, Bonnie Turner, & Terry Turner

Del Preston: So there, I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopkeeper and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really, but sure enough I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.


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