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What is your favorite Movie One-Liner...

From The Crow:

"Greed is for amateurs. Disorder, chaos, anarchy: now that's fun!"
Off the top of my head it's a tie between :

"I shagged her babe, I shagged her rotten"


"It comes in pints?!?!"
This isn't from a movie, it's from en episode of the "Friends" series, now I can't recall the ***le of the episode.

Anyway, Chandler got envolved with a girl Joey had a previous relationship with.

Chandler goes over to talk to this girl and more or less catches her in the act which leads to him goes on a drinking binge... as it seems.

He comes home enter, i think it was Monica's appartment, and shouts at everyone in the room: "S L U T!!" then closes the door.

I think that one is Absolutely Hillarious. )
My two fave Friendisms are :

"Yeah that's how they make pants.....IN PRISON"


"Ugh! this must be what evil tastes like" (when Pheobe eats the Mockalate).
In my younger days before i got married and had children i was a bit of a wild man, going out with mates, getting in a fight etc......ahhhh the memories :p

Ive used this line a few times and it was from the soccer hooligan movie I.D. which is still one of my most favourite movies.

"Dont worry darl, its not my blood, its someone elses"
"Now this is the real ****!"

This video should explain

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From: Dumb & Dumber

"Mary, I.........desperately want to make love to a schoolboy!"
From Happy Gilmour, geez must`ve seen it like 20 times.

Shooter McGavin:" I eat pieces of **** like you for breakfast."

Happy: " You eat pieces of **** for breakfast?"
40 Year Old Virgin:

"Hey, Hey, Hey.. ***** is runnin' wild man"


"Dude, here it is, Boner Jams 03, it's a mixtape i made of all these great scenes i was really into in the summer of 2003."
And the crappest one ever, from the crappest movie ever:

"You`re a godsend, a hero."

"No, I`m a postman."
From The Pink Panther; A Shot In The Dark:

Inspector Clousaeu: "I suspect everyone. And I suspect no one. I gather the facts. Examine the clues. And before you know it, the case is sol-ved"

Anything with Peter Sellars is just classic. Another one of his from The Party...... "Birdie num nums........."
"I'll be back."

You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? Well, who the hell else are you talkin' to? You talkin' to me? Well, I'm the only one here. Who the f--k do you think you're talkin' to?"

"There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. The Korova milkbar sold milk-plus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence..."

"You smell that? Do you smell that? ... Napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed, for twelve hours. When it was all over I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body. The smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole hill. Smelled like ... victory. Someday this war's gonna end ..."

"...I'm not gonna hurt ya. Wendy, darling, 'light of my life'. I'm not gonna hurt ya. You didn't let me finish my sentence. I said, I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just gonna bash your brains in. I'm gonna bash 'em right the f--k in!"

"If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death praying for war. But until that day you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human, f***ing beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabastic pieces of amphibian s--t. Because I am hard you will not like me. But the more you hate me the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on ****ers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that?"

"...Do you think I'm cute Private Pyle? Do you think I'm funny?... Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face... Well, any f--king time, sweetheart!... Private Pyle, I'm gonna give you three seconds, exactly three-f--king seconds to wipe that stupid-lookin' grin off your face or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-f--k you!"

"As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States...Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there that I knew that I belonged. To me, it meant being somebody in a neighborhood that was full of nobodies. They weren't like anybody else. I mean, they did whatever they wanted. They double-parked in front of a hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops"

"You're so-o ambitious, aren't you? You know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube. A well-scrubbed, hustling rube, with a little taste. Good nutrition's given you some length of bone, but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you, Agent Starling? And that accent you've tried so desperately to shed - pure West Virginia. What does your father do? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? You know how quickly the boys found you. All those tedious, sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars, while you could only dream of getting out. Getting anywhere, getting all the way to the F...B...I"

"A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chi-an-ti. You fly back to school now, little Starling. Fly, fly, fly. Fly, fly, fly."

"You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know - that Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall -- you need me on that wall. We use words like "honor," "code," "loyalty." We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand the post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to!"

"Let me tell you what Like a Virgin's about. It's all about a girl who digs a guy with a big dick. The entire song . . . it's a metaphor for big dicks...Like a Virgin's not about some sensitive girl who meets a nice fella. That's what True Blue's about. Now, granted, no argument about that...Let me tell you what Like a Virgin's about. It's all about this cooze who's a regular f--k machine. I'm talking morning, day, night, afternoon . . . dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick... Then one day she meets this John Holmes motherf--ker, and it's like, whoa baby. I mean, this cat is like Charles Bronson in The Great Escape. He's digging tunnels. She's getting this serious dick action and she's feelin' something she ain't felt since forever . . . Pain. Pain...It hurts. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt her. You know, her pussy should be Bubble Yum by now, but when this cat f--ks her, it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see, the pain is reminding a f--k machine what it was once like to be a virgin. Hence . . . Like a Virgin."

"And I see a whole army of my countrymen here in defiance of tyranny. You have come to fight as free men, and free men you are. What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight?...Aye, fight and you may die, run and you'll live - at least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom! Alba gu bra! (Scotland forever!)"

"Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f--king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f--king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f--k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sittin' on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f--king junk food into your mouth. Choose rottin' away at the end of it all, ******* your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarassment to the selfish, f--ked-up brats that you've spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life...But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin? So why did I do it? I could offer a million answers, all false. The truth is that I'm a bad person, but that's gonna change, I'm going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing, and I'm cleanin' up and I'm movin' on, going straight and choosin' life. I'm lookin' forward to it already. I'm going to be just like you: the job, the family, the f--king big television, the washing machine, the car, the compact disc and electrical tin opener, good health, low cholesterol, dental insurance, mortgage, starter home, leisure-wear, luggage, three-piece suite, DIY, game shows, junk food, children, walks in the park, nine to five, good at golf, washing the car, choice of sweaters, family Christmas, indexed pension, tax exemption, clearing the gutters, getting by, looking ahead, the day you die."

"...You find out life's this game of inches, so is football. Because in either game - life or football - the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast and you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They're in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team we fight for that inch. On this team we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when add up all those inches, that's gonna make the f--king difference between winnin' and losin'! Between livin' and dyin'! I'll tell ya this: In any fight, it's the guy who's willin' to die who's gonna win that inch. And I know if I'm gonna have any life anymore, it's because I'm still willin' to fight and die for that inch. Because that's what livin' is! The six inches in front of your face!! Now I can't make you do it. You got to look at the guy next to you. Look into his eyes! Now I think you're gonna see a guy who will go that inch with you. You're gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows, when it comes down to it, you're gonna do the same for him! That's a team, gentleman! And, either we heal, now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. That's football, guys. That's all it is. Now, what are you gonna do?"

"I ain't draft dodging. I ain't burning no flag. I ain't running to Canada. I'm staying right here. You want to send me to jail? Fine, you go right ahead. I've been in jail for 400 years. I could be there for 4 or 5 more, but I ain't going no 10,000 miles to help murder and kill other poor people. If I want to die, I'll die right here, right now, fightin' you, if I want to die. You my enemy, not no Chinese, no Vietcong, no Japanese. You my opposer when I want freedom. You my opposer when I want justice. You my opposer when I want equality. Want me to go somewhere and fight for you? You won't even stand up for me right here in America, for my rights and my religious beliefs. You won't even stand up for my right here at home."
I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?
To raise money we could sell our blood and semen ... not mixed together