Christoph WaltzQuotes

Alan Cowan: Nancy, it's absurd to drink in your condition.

Nancy Cowan: What condition?

Nancy Cowan: [reaching for the scotch bottle] Let's get out of here, Alan. These people are monsters.

Alan Cowan: Stop it, Nancy.

Nancy Cowan: No, no, no. I want to drink some more. I- I wanna get drunk off my ass! This- this bitch throws my bag against the ceiling, nobody lifts a finger. I wanna be blind drunk.

Alan Cowan: You're drunk enough.

Nancy Cowan: How can you let her call our son a criminal? We come over here to work things out with them and they, they insult us, they browbeat us, they lecture us about being good citizens of the world! I am glad our son kicked the shit out of your son and I wipe my ass with your human rights!

Michael Longstreet: Wow! Get a couple of drinks in her and BAM!, her true self comes out.

Alan Cowan: Penelope, I believe in the god of carnage. The god whose rule has been unchallenged since time immemorial.

Alan Cowan: Keep on stroking your own ego. It's beautiful.

Alan Cowan: [to Penelope; [Jane Fonda; [Ku Klux Klan] I saw your friend ] on TV the other day. It made me want to go out and buy a ] poster.

Alan Cowan: Morally, you're supposed to overcome your impulses, but there are times you don't want to overcome them.

Bert Hanson: (last words) Big mouth, nothing behind it!

Bert Hanson: You honestly think hard work creates wealth? The only thing that creates wealth is wealth. And we have it, you don't.

Bert Hanson: I respect you gentlemen for wanting to roll up your sleeves and build something, stake your claim. Now I came to this country with nothing. And through risk and hard work, I made my own American dream come true.

Calvin Candie: White cake?

Dr. King Schultz: I don't go in for sweets, thank you.

Candie: You brooding bout me getting the best of ya, huh?

Schultz: Actually, I was thinking of that poor devil you fed to the dogs today, D'Artagnan. And I was wondering what Dumas would make of all this.

Candie: Come again?

Schultz: [[w:Alexander Dumas|Alexander Dumas; [w:The Three Musketeers|''The Three Musketeers''] ]. He wrote ].

Candie: Yes of course, doctor.

Schultz: I figured you must be an admirer. You named your slave after his novel's lead character. If Alexander Dumas had been there today, I wonder what he would have made of it?

Candie: You doubt he'd approve, huh?

Schultz: Yes. His approval would be a dubious proposition at best.

Candie: Soft-hearted Frenchy.

Schultz: Alexander Dumas is black.

Django Freeman: How you know Brunhilde's first master's was German?

Dr. King Schultz: Brunhilde is a German name. If they named her it stands to reason they'd be German.

Django: Lots of gals where you from named Brunhilde?

Schultz: Brunhilde is the name of a character in the most popular of all the German legends.

Django: There's a story bout Brunhilde?

Schultz: Yes there is.

Django: Do you know it?

Schultz: [Django nods; [w:Brynhildr|Brunhilde] Oh, every German knows that story. Would you like me to tell you? Well, ] was a princess. She was the daughter of Wotan, god of all gods. Anyway her father is really mad at her.

Django: What'd she do?

Schultz: I can't exactly remember. She disobeys him in some way. So he puts her on top of a mountain.

Django: Brunhilde's on a mountain?

Schultz: It's a German legend, there's always going to be a mountain in there somewhere. And he puts a fire-breathing dragon there to guard the mountain, and he surrounds her in a circle of hellfire. And there Brunhilde shall remain unless a hero arises brave enough to save her.

Django: Does a fella arise?

Schultz: Yes Django, as a matter of fact he does. A fella named Sigfried.

Django: Does Sigfried save her?

Schultz: [nods] Quite spectacularly so. He scales the mountain because he's not afraid of it. He slays the dragon because he's not afraid of him. And he walks through hellfire because Brunhilde's worth it.

Django: I know how he feels.

Schultz: I think I'm just starting to realize that. Look, Django, I don't doubt that one day you'll save your lady love, but I can't let you go into Greenville in a good conscience. A slave auction town in Mississippi isn't the place for you to visit, free or not it's just too dangerous. But let me ask you a question: how do you like the bounty hunting business?

Django: Kill white folks and they pay you for it? What's not to like?

Schultz: I have to admit we make a good team.

Django: I thought you was mad at me for killin Big John and Little Raj.

Schultz: Yeah, on that occasion you were a tad overzealous, but normally that's a good thing. How'd you like to partner up for the winter?

Django: Whatcha mean partner up?

Schultz: You work with me through the winter till the snow melts. I give you a third of my bounties so we make some money this winter and when the snow melts I'll take you to Greenville myself and we'll find where they sent your wife.

Django: Why you care what happens to me? Why you care if I find my wife?

Schultz: Frankly, I've never given anybody their freedom before, and now that I have I feel vaguely responsible for you. Plus when a German meets a real-life Sigfried that's kind of a big deal. As a German I'm obliged to help you on your quest to rescue your beloved Brunhilde.

Dr. King Schultz: [entering on horseback] Who were they?

Django: He's the one hightailin it across that field right now.

Schultz: [aims his rifle] You sure that's him?

Django: Yeah.

Schultz: Positive?

Django: I dunno.

Schultz: You don't know if you're positive?

Django: I dunno what positive means.

Schultz: It means you're sure.

Django: Yes.

Schultz: Yes what?

Django: [Schultz fires, knocking Ellis to the ground] Yes I'm sure that's Ellis Brittle. I'm positive he dead.

Dr. King Schultz: Mr. Bennett, I must remind you Django is a free man. You cannot treat him like a slave. Now, within the bounds of good taste, he must be treated as an extension of myself.

Spencer Big Daddy Bennett: Understood, Schultz. Betina, sugar?

Betina: Yes sir?

Big Daddy: Django isn't a slave. Django is a free man. You can't treat him like any of the other niggers around here cause he ain't like any of the other niggers around here. You got it?

Betina: [Schultz nods] You want I should treat him like white folks?

Big Daddy: No. That's not what I said.

Betina: Then I don't know what you want, Big Daddy.

Big Daddy: [thinks a moment, turning to one of the enslaved house servants] Yes, I can see that. Ah, what's the name of that peckerwood boy from town that works with the glass? His momma worked over at the lumber yard.

House Servant: Oh, you mean Jerry.

Big Daddy: That's the boy's name. Jerry! Betina, you know Jerry. Don't you, sugar?

Betina: Yes sir, Big Daddy.

Big Daddy: Well, that's it then! Just treat him like you would Jerry.

Marshal Gill Tatum: You in the saloon! You got a hundred rifles aimed at every way outta that buildin'! You got one chance to get out of this alive! You and your nigger come out right now with your hands over your head and I mean right now!

Dr. King Schultz: Is this the marshal I have the pleasure of addressing?

Marshal: Yes it is. This is U.S. Marshal Gill Tatum.

Schultz: [Marshal Tatum spits out some tobacco] Na wunderbar, Marshal! I have relieved myself of all weapons, and just as you have instructed I am ready to step outside with my hands raised above my head! I trust, as a representative of the criminal justice system of the United States of America, I shan't be shot down in the street by either you or your deputies before I've had my day in court!

Marshal: You mean like you did our Sheriff? Shot em down like a dog in the street!

Schultz: Yes that's exactly what I mean! Do I have your word as a lawman not to shoot me down like a dog in the street?

Marshal: Well... much as we'd all enjoy seein something like that, ain't nobody gonna cheat the hangman in my town.

Schultz: [to Django] Fair enough, Marshal. Here we come! They're a little tense out there, so don't make any quick movements and let me do the talking.

Marshal: Come ahead. You unarmed?

Schultz: Yes, indeed we are. Marshal Tatum, may I address you and your deputies, and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey, as to the incident that just transpired?

Marshal: Go on.

Schultz: My name is Dr. King Schultz. Like yourself, Marshal, I'm a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of two hundred dollars. Now that's two hundred dollars, dead or alive.

Marshal: The hell you say!

Schultz: Well I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news, but I'm willing to wager this man was elected Sheriff sometime in the past two years?

Marshal: Yeah.

Django: I'll be damned.

Col. Hans Landa: I'm officially surrendering myself over to you, Lieutenant Raine. We're your prisoners.

Lt. Aldo Raine: [Landa gives Raine his Bowie knife] How bout my knife? Thank you very much, Colonel. Utivich, cuff the Colonel's hands behind his back.

Landa: Oh, is that really necessary?

Raine: [shoots Hermann with Landa's Walther. To Utivich] I'm a slave to appearances. Scalp Hermann.

Landa: Are you mad? What have you done? I made a deal with your generals for that man's life!

Raine: Yeah, they made that deal. but they don't give a fuck about him. They need you.

Landa: You'll be shot for this!

Raine: Nah, I don't think so. More like chewed out. I've been chewed out before. You know, Utivich and I heard that deal you made with the brass. To end the war tonight? I'd make that deal. How about you, Utivich? You'd make that deal?

Utivich: [Scalping Hermann] I'd make that deal.

Raine: [[W:Schutzstaffel|SS; Landa looks at him angrily] I don't blame you. Damn good deal! And that pretty little nest you feathered for yourself. Well, if you're willing to barbecue the whole High Command, I suppose that's worth certain considerations, but I do have one question. When you get your little place on Nantucket Island, I imagine you're gonna want to take off that handsome ] uniform. Ain't ya? That's what I thought. Now that I can't abide. How about you, Utivich? Can you abide it?

Utivich: Not one damn bit, sir.

Raine: [draws his Bowie knife] I mean, if I had my way, you'd wear that god-damn uniform for the rest of your pecker-sucking life. But I'm aware that ain't practical. I mean, at some point you're gonna have to take it off. So I'm gonna give you something you can't take off.

Lt. Aldo Raine: You know, where I'm from—

Col. Hans Landa: Yeah, where is that, exactly?

Raine: [[W:Maynardville, Tennessee|Maynardville, Tennessee] ] — I done my share of bootleggin'. Up there, if you engage in what the federal government calls illegal activity, but what we call a man just trying to earn a living for his family selling moonshine liquor, it behooves oneself to keep his wits. Long story short: we hear a story too good to be true, it ain't.

Landa: Sitting in your chair, I would probably say the same thing. And 999.999 times out of a million you would be correct. But in the pages of history, every once in a while, fate reaches out and extends its hand. What shall the history books read?

Col. Hans Landa: As of this moment, both Omar and Donowitz should be sitting in the very seats we left them in — 0023 and 0024, if my memory serves — explosives still around their ankle, still ready to explode, and your mission — some would call it terrorist plot — as of this moment is still a go.

Lt. Aldo Raine: That's a pretty exciting story. What's next, Eliza on Ice?

Landa: However, all I have to do is pick up this phone right there, inform the cinema, and your plan's kaput.

Raine: If they're still there, and if they're still alive — and that's one big if — there ain't no way you gonna take them boys without setting off them bombs.

Landa: [''Lifts up the Chianti and fills their glasses''; [Adolf Hitler|Hitler; [Joseph Goebbels|Goebbels; [Hermann Göring|Göring; [Martin Bormann|Bormann; places hands on table] I have no doubt. Yes, some Germans will die, and yes, it will ruin the evening, and yes, Goebbels will be very, very, very mad at you for what you've done to his big night. But you won't get Hitler, you won't get Goebbels, you won't get Göring, and you won't get Bormann. And you need all four to end the war. But if I don't pick up this phone right here, you may very well get all four. And if you get all four, you end the war tonight! So, gentlemen, let's discuss the prospect of ending the war tonight. Gentlemen, I have no intention of killing ] and killing ] and killing ] and killing ], not to mention winning the war single-handedly for the Allies, only later to find myself standing before a Jewish tribunal. If you want to win the war tonight, we have to make a deal.

Lieutenant Aldo Raine: What kind o deal?

Landa: [[W:Office of Strategic Services|OSS; ''Raine is speechless''; curiously] The kind you wouldn't have the authority to make. However, I'm sure this mission of yours has a commanding officer — a general, I'm betting — for ] would be my guess. Oooh, that's a bingo! Is that the way you say it: "that's a bingo"?

Raine: You just say "bingo.

Landa: [gleefully] Bingo! How fun.

Lt. Aldo Raine: Bon-jorno.

Col. Hans Landa: [''In flawless Italian''] Gentlemen, it's a pleasure; the friends of our cherished star, admired by all of us — this outright jewel of our culture — are naturally going to be under my personal protection for the duration of their stay.

Raine: Gratsy.

Landa: [In Italian] Gorlomi? Please, am I pronouncing it correctly?

Raine: Sì – er, corretto.

Col. Hans Landa: [as he lights his pipe; long pause, while he stares hard at LaPadite, his smile slowly drops to a more stern look] Now, my job dictates that I must have my men enter your home and conduct a thorough search before I can officially cross your family's name off my list, and if there are any irregularities to be found, rest assured they will be — that is, unless you have something to tell me that makes the conducting of a search unnecessary. I might add, also, that any information that makes the performance of my duties easier will not be met with punishment. Actually, quite the contrary, it will be met with reward, and that reward will be your family will cease to be harassed in any way by the German military during the rest of our occupation of your country. You are sheltering enemies of the state, are you not?

Perrier LaPadite: Yes.

Landa: You're sheltering them underneath your floorboards, aren't you?

LaPadite: [Tearfully] Yes.

Landa: [LaPadite points. Landa rises and walks to where he pointed, gesturing with his pipe while LaPadite nods to confirm] Point out to me the areas where they are hiding. Since I haven't heard any disturbance, I assume that while they're listening, they don't speak English.

LaPadite: Yes.

Landa: I'm going to switch back to French now. I want you to follow my masquerade. Is that clear?

LaPadite: Yes.

Landa: [In French; Opens the door and lets [[w:Schutzstaffel|SS soldiers; Soldiers shoot up the floorboards with sole survivor Shoshanna running off in distance with Landa pointing his [[w:Walther P38|walther pistol] Monsieur LaPadite, I thank you for the milk and your hospitality. I do believe our business here is done. ] in] Ah, ladies. I thank you for your time. We shan't be bothering your family any longer. So, Monsieur, Mademoiselle, I bid farewell to you and say; adieu! ] at her, only to lower it] Au revoir, Shosanna!

Col. Hans Landa: [[W:Wehrmacht|German soldiers] The feature that makes me such an effective hunter of the Jews is, as opposed to most ], I can think like a Jew, where they can only think like a German — more precisely: German soldier. Now, if one were to determine what attribute the German people share with a beast, it would be the cunning and the predatory instinct of a hawk. But if one were to determine what attributes the Jews share with a beast, it would be that of the rat. The Führer and Goebbels's propaganda have said pretty much the same thing, but where our conclusions differ is: I don't consider the comparison an insult. Consider, for a moment, the world a rat lives in. It's a hostile world, indeed. If a rat were to scamper through your front door right now, would you greet it with hostility?

Perrier LaPadite: I suppose I would.

Landa: Has a rat ever done anything to you to create this animosity you feel towards them?

LaPadite: Rats spread diseases. They bite people.

Landa: [[w:Black Death|the bubonic plague] Rats were the cause of ], but that's some time ago. I propose to you, any disease a rat could spread, a squirrel could equally carry. Would you agree?

LaPadite: Oui.

Landa: Yet I assume you don't share the same animosity with squirrels that you do with rats, do you?

LaPadite: No.

Landa: But they're both rodents, are they not? And except for the tail, they even rather look alike, don't they?

LaPadite: It's an interesting thought, Herr Colonel.

Landa: Ha! However interesting as the thought may be, it makes not one bit of difference to how you feel. If a rat were to walk in here right now, as I'm talking, would you greet it with a saucer of your delicious milk?

LaPadite: Probably not.

Landa: I didn't think so. You don't like them. You don't really know why you don't like them. All you know is you find them repulsive. Consequently, a German soldier conducts a search of a house suspected of hiding Jews: where does the hawk look? He looks in the barn. He looks in the attic. He looks in the cellar. He looks everywhere he would hide, but there's so many places it would never occur to a hawk to hide. However, the reason the Führer has brought me off my Alps in Austria and placed me in French cow country today is because it does occur to me, because I'm aware what tremendous feats human beings are capable of once they abandon dignity.

Col. Hans Landa: Now, according to these papers, all the Jewish families in this area have been accounted for, except the Dreyfuses. Somewhere in the last year it would appear they've vanished, which leads me to the conclusion that they've either made good their escape, or someone is very successfully hiding them. What have you heard about the Dreyfuses, Monsieur LaPadite?

Perrier LaPadite: Only rumors.

Landa: I love rumors! Facts can be so misleading, but rumors, true or false, are often revealing.

Col. Hans Landa: Tell me, Aldo. If I were sitting where you're sitting, would you show me mercy?