Simon CallowQuotes

Gareth: I've got a new theory about marriage. Two people are in love, they live together, and then suddenly one day, they run out of conversation.

Charles: Uh-huh.

Gareth: Totally. I mean they can't think of a single thing to say to each other. That's it: panic! Then suddenly it-it occurs to the chap that there is a way out of the deadlock.

Charles: Which is?

Gareth: He'll ask her to marry him.

Charles: Brilliant! Brilliant!

Gareth: Suddenly they've got something to talk about for the rest of their lives.

Charles: Basically you're saying marriage is just a way of getting out of an embarrassing pause in conversation.

Gareth: The definitive icebreaker.

American wedding guest: [[Oscar Wilde] Do you actually know ]?

Gareth: Not personally no. But I do know someone who could get you his fax number. Shall we dance?

Gareth: A toast before we go into battle. True love. In whatever shape or form it may come. May we all in our dotage be proud to say, "I was adored once too.

Matthew: [At Gareth's funeral; Pause; pause; pause; [W. H. Auden] Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in. In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him. Fat seems to be a word people most connected with him. Terribly rude also rang a lot of bells. So very fat and very rude seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint. On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me to tell me that you loved him, which I know he'd be thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality... his strange experimental cooking. The recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness. But joyful is how I hope you'll remember him. Not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favourite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met. As for me, you may ask how I will remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately, there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: ]. This is actually what I want to say: "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead'. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Vincent Cadby: [[money] Hello, Ace. You want your ]?

Ace Ventura: Wrong again, Sweeney Toad! I've come for the sacred bat. Where is it?!

Vincent Cadby: Wait - whatever can you mean?

Ace Ventura: [takes out a book and reads from it; closes the book] Guano? Hello?! Does "poop" ring a bell? "Guano: mined as a source of nitrate, producing 84% of the world's supply of fertilizer, a 1.4 billion dollar industry." THAT'S what this war is all about! You can't legally take possession of the caves as long as the Wachatis inhabit the area, and you want that dookie so bad, you can taste it!

Fulton Greenwall: But sir, I thought that--

Vincent Cadby: [quietly; back to Ace] Yes, thank you, Fulton. That's a fine theory, Mr. Ventura... What has it got to do with me?

Ace Ventura: [does an exaggerated inhalation of air, then speaks rapidly; steps back while talking backwards; does pelvic thrusts] I thought you'd never ask! The day I met you, there was a white substance on your shoe that I mistook for plaster; yesterday I saw the same white substance outside the hut where the bat was kept, and suddenly it hit me: the great white bat has great white guano! That's what you stepped in, that's what was on your shoe, and that explains the abrasion on your palm! ...Let me run that back for ya! That's what you stepped in, that's what was on your shoe, AND THAT EXPLAINS THE ABRATION ON YOUR PALM! DAMN, I'M GOOD! Can you feel that?! Huh?! Can you feel it, Captain Compost?! THE DAY OF REDEMPTION IS AT HAND! REPENT... and thou shall be saved!

Vincent Cadby: Tell me, Mr. Ventura - just how good are you?

Ace Ventura: [inspects him for a moment; does a dramatic turn] You're an extreme workaholic. You recently returned from a short trip to Gotan in Northern Africa, and upon your return, you more than likely took a spill because of some... shoddy masonry work!

Vincent Cadby: [dryly and evasively] Very impressive. Might one ask how?

Ace Ventura: [does an exaggerated inhalation of air, then speaks rapidly; gasps, having run out of breath] Surely! The abrasion on the palm of your left hand is the type one sustains breaking a fall of three to five feet; the small remnants of plaster on the tip of your shoe pointed to a careless mason being the culprit; your new watch, a quality forgery of a Cartier, was most likely purchased through the North African black market known to reside in GOTAN!

Vincent Cadby: And my work habits?

Ace Ventura: Yes, a workaholic. The urine stain on your pants would signify that you're a "single shake" man - far too busy for the follow-up jiggle!

Fulton Greenwall: Brilliant, Mr. Ventura! Simply brilliant!

Ace Ventura: Spank you, Greenwall! Spank you very much.