Jeremy IronsQuotes

Aramis: [[genius; [engineer] Well I'm a ], not a ].

Aramis: [[peace; [life; [soul] But now Louis was King. He was afraid to kill you. His whole claim of power rested on the sancitity of Royal blood. So, instead, he devised a way to keep you forever hidden. For my country... for my king... I bought ]... with your ]... and my ].

Aramis: I need you. All for one, one for all.

Aramis: I am the general of the Order of the Jesuits.

Aramis: We will replace the king.

Aramis: [[secrecy; [necessary] This ] is regrettable but ].

Aramis: This is not for me, Athos. This is for everything we once were, and might be again!

Aramis: Athos. If we fail in this attempt... and we probably will... I'll be honored to die beside you.

Aramis: [[beauty; [danger] You are surrounded by ], by intrigue, by ], what more can a man want?

John Tuld: So, what you're telling me is that the music is about to stop, and we're going to be left holding the biggest bag of odorous excrement ever assembled in the history of … capitalism.

Peter Sullivan: Sir, I'm not sure that I would put it that way. But let me clarify: using your analogy, what this model shows is the music, so to speak, just slowing. If the music were to stop, as you put it, then this model wouldn't be even close to that scenario. It would be considerably worse.

John Tuld: Let me tell you something, Mr. Sullivan. Do you care to know why I'm in this chair with you all? I mean, why I earn the big bucks?

Peter Sullivan: Yes.

John Tuld: I'm here for one reason and one reason alone. I'm here to guess what the music might do a week, a month, a year from now. That's it. Nothing more. And standing here tonight, I'm afraid that I don't hear—a—thing. Just … silence.

John Tuld: Sam, I don't think you seem to understand what your boy here has just said. If I made you, how would you do this?

Sam Rogers: Well, you call the traders in for their normal meet, because they're going to know it's the end either way. You're going to have to throw them a bone, and a pretty big one. And then you've got to come out of the gates storming. No swaps, no nothing.

John Tuld: So, you're telling me that all your trades have to be gone by lunchtime, huh?

John Tuld: When did you start getting so soft, Sam?

Sam Rogers: Fuck you, "soft". You're panicking.

John Tuld: If you're the first out of the door, that's not called "panicking".

Sam Rogers: The real question is: who are we selling this to?

John Tuld: The same people we've been selling it to for the last two years, and whoever else would buy it.

Sam Rogers: But John, if you do this, you will kill the market for years. It's over.

Sam Rogers: And you're selling something that you know has no value.

John Tuld: We are selling to willing buyers at the current fair market price.

John Tuld: So that we may survive.

Sam Rogers: You will never sell anything to any of those people ever again.

John Tuld: I understand.

Sam Rogers: Do you?

John Tuld: [pounding on the desk] Do you? This is it! I'm telling you: this is it!

John Tuld: [points to the skyline of New York City; [w:Tulip_mania|1637; [w:Panic of 1796–97|1797; [w:Panic of 1819|1819; [w:Panic of 1837|37; [w:Panic of 1857|57; [w:Panic of 1884|84; [w:Panic of 1901|1901; [w:Panic of 1907|07; [w:Wall Street Crash of 1929|29; [w:Recession of 1937–38|1937; [w:1973–75 recession|1974; [w:Black Monday (1987)|1987; [w:Early 1990s recession in the United States|92, 97; [w:Early 2000s recession|2000; [w:Great Recession in the United States|whatever we want to call this] So you think we might have put a few people out of business today. That it's all for naught. You've been doing that every day for almost forty years, Sam. And if this is all for naught, then so is everything out there. It's just money; it's made up. Pieces of paper with pictures on it so we don't have to kill each other just to get something to eat. It's not wrong. And it's certainly no different today than it's ever been. ], ], ], ], ], ], ], ], ], ], ], ]—Jesus, didn't that fucker fuck me up good—], ] and ]. It's all just the same thing over and over; we can't help ourselves. And you and I can't control it or stop it, or even slow it, or even ever-so-slightly alter it. We just react. And we make a lot of money if we get it right. And we get left by the side of the road if we get it wrong. And there have always been and there always will be the same percentage of winners and losers, happy fuckers and sad suckers, fat cats and starving dogs in this world. Yeah, there may be more of us today than there's ever been, but the percentages—they stay exactly the same.

John Tuld: There are three ways to make a living in this business: be first, be smarter, or cheat. Now, I don't cheat. And although I like to think we have some pretty smart people in this building, it sure is a hell of a lot easier to just be first.

John Tuld: Please, speak as you might to a young child or a Golden Retriever. It wasn't brains that got me here, I can assure you that.

Uber-Morlock: We weren't always like this. After the moon fell from the sky, the Earth could no longer sustain the species. Some managed to stay above; the rest of us escaped underground. Then centuries later, when we tried to re-emerge into the sun again, we couldn't. So we bred ourselves into castes. Some to be our eyes and ears, others to be our muscles and sinews...

Hartdegen: You mean your hunters?

Uber-Morlock: Yes. Bred to be predators, but bred also to be controlled. You see, my caste concentrated on expanding our cerebral abilities.

Hartdegen: You control their thoughts?

Uber-Morlock: Not just theirs.

Hartdegen: [realises] The Eloi. So it's not enough that you hunt them down like animals?

Uber-Morlock: That's their role here.

Hartedegen: To be your food?!

Uber-Morlock: [indicates Mara in her cage] Yes. And for those who are suitable, to be breeding vessels for our other colonies. You see, I am just one of many.

Hartdegen: [the Uber-Morlock rises] I don't understand how you can sit there and speak so coldly about this. Have you not considered the human cost of what it is your are doing?

Uber-Morlock: [other Morlocks roar in the distance] We all pay a price...Alexander. Don't worry, you're safe. I control them. Without that control, they would exhaust the food supply in a matter of months.

Hartdegen: Food supply?! They're human beings!

Uber-Morlock: Who are you to question 800,000 years of evolution?

Hartdegen: This is a perversion of every natural law!

Uber-Morlock: [grabs him by the throat] And what is time travel... but your pathetic attempt to control the world around you?! Your futile effort to have a question answered?! Do you think I don't know you, Alexander? I can look inside your memories. Your nightmares. Your dreams. You're a man haunted by those two most terrible words: "What if?

Uber-Morlock: You built your time machine because of Emma's death. If she had lived, it wouldn't have existed. So how could you use your machine to go back to save her? You are the inescapable result of your tragedy. Just as I... am the inescapable result... of you. You have your answer. Now go.

Über-Morlock: We all have our time machines, don't we? Those that take us back are memories, and those that carry us forward are dreams.

Über-Morlock: Come a little closer, I don't bite.

Brom: That's the spirit... one part brave, three parts fool.

Brom: I always say, better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Brom: [...] My story was about you, Eragon. The Varden need a Rider if they are to defeat Durza and the King.

Brom: The king won't rest until your dragon is killed.

Brom: (Upon seeing Eragon's gedwey ignasia) You!

Brom: The time of dragons and Dragon Riders will come again.

Brom: One false move, one reckless decision, and everything is lost.

Brom: There was a time when our land flourished without fear and cruelty. A time of dragons and dragon riders. Dragons gave their riders magical powers. No one could defeat them! Until one of their own, a Rider named Galbatorix opposed them, and cut down any Rider who opposed him-

Brom: [...] Our beautiful lands have been ravaged by a ruthless king, and our people live under the shadow of tyranny. But it wasn't always like this, was it? There was a time when the world lived in peace, protected by warriors astride mighty dragons. They are nothing but stories now - all we have is hope that a dragon will be born again, and one will rise to lead us to freedom.

Brom: Magic comes from dragons; it flows through the Riders who command them.

Brom: (To Eragon) Let's see these skills of yours.

Brom: (To the soldiers) Take care of the little bones, hate to see you choke.

Simon: Of course not. I'm a soldier, I'm not a monster, even though I do sometimes work for monsters.

Bruce: [[w:Indian Ocean|the Indian Ocean] It's a weapon. It's a rock. A mineral capable of weakening Kryptonian cells. The first sample big enough to mean something turned up in ] three months ago. It is now aboard the White Portuguese being delivered to Lex Luthor. Who I am going to steal it from.

Alfred: To keep it out of Luthor's hands. To destroy it.

Bruce: No.

Alfred: You're going to go to war?

Bruce: That son of a bitch brought war to us two years ago. Jesus, Alfred, count the dead. Thousands of people. What's next? Millions? He has the power to wipe out the entire human race, and if we believe there's a 1% chance that he is our enemy, we have to take it as an absolute certainty! And we have to destroy him.

Alfred: But he is not our enemy!

Bruce: [''Walks away''] Not today. Twenty years in Gotham, Alfred. we've seen what promises are worth. How many good guys are left. How many stayed that way. Fourteen hours.