Glenn CloseQuotes

Randy: Hey you! Dildo. Is this the nut house where you're keeping my Laurel?

Roberta: Laurel's here but we're not exactly keeping her.

Randy: Bullshit, ya big dyke.

Roberta: I'm not a dyke. Is Laurel expecting you?

Randy: I'll kill you douchebag.

Roberta: That's all you men understand is violence.

Randy: Now look. I know what sort of freaks hang around here. It's a big lesbian scene.

Randy: Ooooh, oooh, what are you the man of the house or the court eunuch. Laurel, you in there you bitch?!

Jenny Fields: Hello.

Randy: Oh, I know who you are. My Laurel's not your type sweetie.

Jenny Fields: Perhaps she's not your type either.

Randy: Listen, goddammit. If you don't get Laurel's ass out here I'm gonna...

Laurel: Randy!

Jenny Fields: Are you alright?

Laurel: Baby, you found me.

Randy: Oh, I don't think I can drive the fuckin car.

Laurel: [to Jenny] That's alright. I can drive you just never let me. I guess Randy needs me.

Randy: Easy!

Laurel: Sorry baby, I'm sorry.

Randy: Crazy dyke blind-sided me.

Jenny Fields: [while telling Dean Bodger and her son about his father, who was a brain damaged WW2 veteran with spontaneous erections she was the nurse of] Where was I?

T. S. Garp: He kept having erections.

Jenny Fields: Thank you. He was dying. I wanted a child. It was a good way to have one without the bother of a husband around... who had legal rights to my body. So, one night at work... when the wounded and maimed were all asleep, I went to him. He was asleep. But his erection was there, as always. I removed my undergarments and climbed on top of him. He woke up then. He said the only word other than his name that I ever heard him utter. He said, "good." It didn't take very long, and that once was all that was needed.

Dean Bodger: You raped him! You raped a dying man!

Roberta: I mean, I had mine removed surgically under general anesthesia. But to have it bitten off in a Buick...

Jenny Fields: It's lust!

Jenny Fields: [noticing scantily clad prostitutes] Is that the latest fashion?

T. S. Garp: No, Mom, that's the oldest profession.

Jenny Fields: Are you gonna go to sleep or you gonna stay up and think your weird thoughts?

Young Garp: I'll stay up and think weird thoughts for a while.

Jenny Fields: You know, everybody dies. My parents died. Your father died. Everybody dies. I'm going to die too. So will you. The thing is, to have a life before we die. It can be a real adventure having a life.

Glenn Close: [at the Academy Awards] This is Cameron's first nomination and he's in extremely good company. Tonight he joins fellow best actor nominee Paul Newman for "Coot", Clint Eastwood for "Codger", Michael Douglas for "Primary Urges" and Steven Seagal for "Snowball in Hell".

Cameron: Maybe I should thank someone else. Someone who's really been there, someone who taught me a lot, about poetry and Shakespeare, and just, y'know, stayin awake, man. Someone who's just an overall great guy, a great teacher... to Howard Brackett from Greenleaf, Indiana! And he's gay. Y'know, I've been thinking alot about this night, and I've decided to dedicate this whole night to a great, gay teacher. Mr. Brackett, WE WON!

Frank Brackett: [about Cameron] He used to mow our lawn. Never again.

Peter Malloy: A teacher in trouble. A town under siege. A journey to the heartland. Stay tuned.

Berniece: I need that wedding. I need some beauty and some music and some placecards before I die. It's like heroin.

Reporter: Should gays be allowed to handle fresh produce?

Sonja: I don't have time. I promised to do that photo shoot this afternoon. I have to shower and vomit!

Ava Blazer: [after one of the girls announces that she's gay] You can't be gay! You're a tramp!

Joe Castleman: [fixes himself a drink] Listen, Joanie. Listen, there is nothing horrible, or shameful, or immoral about what we do. We're writing partners. And as we've created a beautiful body of work together...

Joan Castleman: You edit, Joe. That's all you do. I'm the one who sits at that desk eight hours a day.

Joe Castleman: Is that the way you see it? Really? What, all these years, you've been sitting in some giant store of resentment? And what about all the years I've been uh, rubbing your back, bringing you tea, cooking you dinner, watching the kids so you could work without distraction? You don't think that with times when it killed me, that you were the one with the golden touch? You think I wake up every morning feeling even remotely proud of myself? But have I ever said "I'm done with this marriage. I'm walking away?

Joan Castleman: No, you had affairs.

Joe Castleman: [sighs] Oh God... And I've regretted every fucking one of them!

Joan Castleman: Oh, yeah, right. You'd sob in my lap, and you'd beg me to forgive you, and I always would because, you know, somehow you convinced me that my talent made you do it.

Joe Castleman: [sighs] Oh, shit...

Joan Castleman: And then when I was too angry or too furious or too hurt to write you it, give me one of your famous back rubs and you'd say "Use it, Joanie. Use it.

Joe Castleman: I never said that.

Joan Castleman: Oh, yes you did.

Joan Castlemann: [walks over to a small shelf of Castleman books; takes out a book; throws it on the ground; throws it on the ground] Yes you did! Lucky for me I had somewhere to put it. I mean, critics love the image of Sylvia Fry, you know, scrubbing the tear stains out of her dress. They just love that, another Castleman masterpiece. Your chest had swelled when you read me those reviews. It actually swelled. And rather than being outraged, and rather than thinking about what this all was doing to our kids, I would watch you and I'd say "Oh my God, how can I - how can I capture that - that behaviour? How can I put all that in words?" And you know what? I did. I did right here. Right here. Yeah, another Castleman masterpiece. Oh, and uh, let's see. Uh, this one I wrote after you screwed uh, who was it? Oh yeah, our third nanny!

Joe Castleman: [picking up the books] God. This book has nothing at all to do with the fucking nanny!

Joan Castleman: Oh, yes it did. It's on every single page.

Joe Castleman: These are my stories. My culture, my family, my ideas!

Joan Castleman: [furiously throwing all the books on the ground] My words! My pain! My spending hours alone in that room turning your appalling behaviour into literary gold!

Joe Castleman: What compelling ideas did you ever fucking have?! You were nothing but a privilege, prissy little co-ed! The only decent story you ever wrote alone was about Carol! You stole from my life even then!

Joan Castleman: [pause. Tearfully turning away] Shame on you, Joe.

Joe Castleman: You loved holding up in the village with the big bad Jew, huh? You loved making your parents skirm. You got the literary life, and the house by the sea, hm? You loved getting the nice clothes and the travel and all the privileges without ever having to marry some schmuck from a brokerage firm! You got it all, my girl!

Joan Castleman: Well, you can have it back. I don't want it.

Joe Castleman: What are you doing?

Joan Castleman: I'm uh, spend the night in David's room and then when I get home, I'm gonna call a lawyer.

Joe Castleman: This is ridiculous. Joanie, we got kids, hm? We got a grandchild. We've got friends we've known for years who are gonna start dying on us one by one. Where you gonna be, hm? You're gonna be living alone feeling brave? Is that what you want? Joanie, don't walk away from me-- DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME, GODDAMMIT!

Joan Castleman: Don't touch me!

Joe Castleman: Don't touch you?! Joanie, we gotta talk this through!

Joan Castleman: I can't do it anymore, Joe. I can't do it. I can't take it. I can't take the humiliation of holding your coat and arranging your pills, and picking the crumbs out of your beard, and being shoved aside with all the other wives to talk about some goddamn shopping trip, while you, while you say to all the, the gathering sycophants, that your wife doesn't write?! Your wife! Who just won the Nobel Prize?!

Joe Castleman: So, if I'm such an insensitive and talentless fucking piece of shit. Why the fuck did you marry me? Hm?

Joan Castleman: [tearfully laughs] Oh God, Joe...

Joe Castleman: No, I really wanna know. Why did you marry me?

Joan Castleman: [tearfully] ... I don't know. I can't think anymore...

David Castleman: [short pause] What? What?

Joe Castleman: [realising] You've been smoking pot.

David Castleman: No I haven't.

Joe Castleman: [grabs David by the arm, he hits it away] Yes you have! I can... You reek of it!

Joan Castleman: Joe, calm down.

Joe Castleman: No, no, no, no. Look at him. Oh my God, the kid's completely stoned!

David Catleman: Oh, I guess I'm a real embarrassment to you, huh, pop?

Joe Castleman: What kind of hostile crap is that?

Joan Castleman: [sighs] Joe. David, what's going on?

David Catleman: I don't know, mom. I'm trying to figure out if I've been worshipping at the wrong parental shrine.

Joe Castleman: [pause] What the hell are you talking about? What are you talking about?! Oh my God, the kid's in a mess. What are we gonna do with him?

David Castleman: Nope, I'm not a pronoun, pop. I'm standing right here.

Joe Castleman: Well than talk to me for Christ's sake!

Joan Castleman: Don't shout at him.

Joe Castleman: Yes, I will! We're late! We're supposed to be in the limo, and already he's spoiling my night with his fucking bullshit--

David Castleman: Is it?!

Joe Castleman: Is it what?!

David Castleman: Your night?! Because according to your biographer this could all be some brilliant fraud.

Joe Castleman: What biographer?

David Castleman: That guy on the plane, with the glasses and the hair. Andy Warol with--

Joan Castleman: Nathaniel Bone?! He's not my fucking biographer! What are you talking about?!

David Castleman: Well, he was in the bar last night.

Joan Castleman: What did he say to you?

David Castleman: He said that I shouldn't measure myself against my venerable father's success because there is in fact a theory, that you, my mother, the real genius of the family.

Joan Castleman: That's ridiculous.

David Castleman: Why would he make such a twisted thing up?

Joe Castleman: David, he's out to get me, cause I won't authorise his hack-job on my life. Don't be an idiot, David.

David Castleman: I'm not an idiot!

Joe Castleman: All right.

David Castleman: Why would you call me that?!

Joe Castleman: Okay, calm down.

David Castleman: But of course, if what he said is true, than I really really would be a fucking idiot wouldn't I?!

Joe Castleman: David, look I hate to state the obvious, but I think the pot is making you paranoid.

David Castleman: I'm not fucking paranoid!

Joan Castleman: David, Nathaniel Bone is an insidious man. He had no business saying those kinds of things to you.

David Castleman: He said you had a drink with him too. Did you?

Joan Castleman: I did. He approached me in the lobby, I thought it would be unwise to rebuff him.

David Castleman: He said that you confessed.

Joan Castleman: Confessed what?

David Castleman: He said that you ghost write dad's books.

Joan Castleman: I never said that!

David Castleman: [short pause] Do you?

Joan Castleman: No, David, I do not.

David Castleman: [tearfully] I don't believe you...

Joan Castleman: Well, darling, I can't make you believe me. You know, you have to decide what you believe yourself.

Joe Castleman: David, it's all lies. It's fucking outrageous.

David Castleman: Dad, why were you always closing the door on me, huh? With her inside? When I was young? What the fuck was she doing in there?

Joe Castleman: What are you talking about?

David Castleman: The fucking door to your office! It was always being slammed in my face with her inside!

Joe Castleman: Your mother was proofreading.

David Castleman: Proofreading?!

Joe Castleman: Uh-huh.

David Castleman: I don't fucking believe you! You asked mom "Who the hell is Sylvia Fry?!" You don't even know who your fucking characters are!

Joe Castleman: All right, now that's enough now, David--

David Castleman: [grabs his father by the coat, pushes him to the wall] No, fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! You enslaved my mother!

Joe Castleman: David! David! No, David!

Joan Castleman: Stop it, David! David! Calm down. Your father doesn't control me.

David Castleman: [calming down, tearfully] It's all so fucked up...

Thomas Krasny: He told you, didn't he? He told you! What did he do? Did he phone you? Send you anonymous notes?

Teddy Barnes: You'll stop at nothing, won't you? Anyone could've sent those notes; everyone knew—the police in Santa Cruz knew, people in your office knew!

Thomas Krasny: Bullshit! Don't you understand what he did? He did the identical crime eighteen months before he murdered his wife! He knew it would get him off the hook! He knew Bobby Slade was seeing his wife! That's why he did the first crime in Santa Cruz! He threw us Bobby Slade as a suspect! He picked that woman very carefully! He knew she played tennis with Slade! He planned this for eighteen months! He is not a psychopath! He is an iceman. He is a monster.

Teddy Barnes: Did your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap and water?

Sam Ransom: Yeah, but it didn't do any fucking good.

Iris Gaines: You know, I believe we have two lives.

Roy Hobbs: How... what do you mean?

Iris Gaines: The life we learn with and the life we live with after that.

Roy Hobbs: I coulda been better. I coulda broke every record in the book.

Iris Gaines: And then?

Roy Hobbs: And then? And then when I walked down the street people would've looked and they would've said there goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was in this game.

Cruella De Vil: Alonzo! Find the rat and kill it! Le Pelt and I will be on the Orient Express.

Alonzo: K-K-K-Kill?

Cruella De Vil: The last time I underestimated a puppy, I wound up in the pokey! Go!

Cruella de Vil: My Dalmatian puppy coat. The coat of my dreams. The ultimate fur coat, that was denied me by that canine cabal... for which I have lost, three years of my life! Alonso, we're going to make them pay.

Alonzo: Yes. How much?

Cruella de Vil: Dipstick, she called him. What fiendish justice! He escaped me, but I shall wreak my vengeance on the next generation.

Alonzo: Sounds wonderful.

Jean-Pierre Le Pelt: [when Cruella driving in Paris] Ah! You're going the wrong way!

Cruella de Vil: They're going the wrong way!

Cruella de Vil: [Alonso smiles] Don't worry - I've got a perfectly good idiot to take the fall for it. Not you, Alonzo, another idiot.

Cruella De Vil: Alonzo, I need you.

Alonzo: I'm yours.

Cruella De Vil: [laughing evilly] Furnish yourself with a torch, a large sack and rubber soled shoes. Meanwhile, I need a furrier. And I know just where to find him.

Cruella De Vil: It’s smaller than I remember.

Alonzo: I k-kept everything just as you l-left it.

Cruella De Vil: [Fluffy growls; gasps, then starts tsking; she opens the door, suddenly screams, throwing Fluffy to Alonzo; starts panting] Oh, come, Fluffy. We’ll share a bath. An interminable soak scented with lavender and a drop of Sumatran… Never mind. I think I’ll enjoy doing a little dusting. Oh, Fluffy, a bath… Followed by a nap submerged in feather pillows and satin-- Alonzo! Fur! It's everywhere! Lock them away! Bury them beyond sight and memory!

Alonzo: Even the Mongolian pony skin trousers and the--

Cruella De Vil: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWW!!!!!

Cruella De Vil: And this!

Cruella De Vil: Is it safe?

Alonzo: Yes, it's safe.

Judge: Cruella De Vil...

Cruella De Vil: Do call me Ella; Cruella sounds so cruel.

Judge: Ms. De Vil, I am releasing you into the custody of the probation office. You will perform 500 hours of community service. Mr Torte, your client is, I believe, a very wealthy woman.

Cruella de Vil: ['''Alonzo:''' Um, wouldn't you be more c-comfortable in the c-car? [Cruella screams and pants as her claws return; cackling; in next scene; moves Alonzo and rips off the planks by hand while screaming. Afterwards, she opens the doors, and falls on the fur coats] Ella?] Not Ella. Ella's gone. And Cruella's back! Pull! Pull! Stand aside, worm! Oh, mommy's home, and I'll never leave you again!

Cruella de Vil: [picks up Oddball; throws Oddball on conveyor belt, and laughs evilly, thinking she killed Oddball.; Oddball appears, alive and well, shocking Cruella and a dalmatian hits a switch making Cruella go into an oven.] Without spots, you're just not worth the trouble. Chop-chop! And now, to my coat!

Cruella de Vil: Only two minions to abuse? On, Jean-Pierre, the world is so unfair.

Rhomann Dey: He said that he's "an a-hole". But he's not, and I'm quoting him here, "100% a dick".

Nova Prime: Do you believe him?

Rhomann Dey: Well, I don't believe anyone is 100% a dick, ma'am–

Nova Prime: I mean, do you believe that he's here to help?

Rhomann Dey: – Yeah.