Barnorama Welcome To The Fun Barn
One read and you’ll hear dial-up tones, sitcom laughter, and locker-room chaos like your memory just loaded a saved file.
“Granny Wendy: So… your adventures are over.
Peter: Oh, no. To live… to live would be an awfully big adventure.”
“Gentlemen, welcome to Fight Club. The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club! Third rule of Fight Club: someone yells “stop!”, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.
Fourth rule: only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule: one fight at a time, fellas. Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight.”
“I know now why you cry. But it is something I can never do.”
“Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”
“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you.”
“Listen, Rose. You’re gonna get out of here, you’re gonna go on and you’re gonna make lots of babies, and you’re gonna watch them grow. You’re gonna die an old… an old lady warm in her bed, not here, not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?”
“My momma always said, “Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”
“Hakuna Matata!”
“I made my family disappear!”
“Oh, look. Another glorious morning. Makes me sick!”
” 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, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you could 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 punchline. 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 a post. Either way, I don’t give a *damn* what you think you are entitled to!”
“Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler…”
“I see dead people.”
“Ernest Hemingway once wrote, ‘The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.’ I agree with the second part.”
“That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”
“Now I wanna dance, I wanna win. I want that trophy, so dance good…”
“Are you crying? There’s no crying! There’s no crying in baseball!
“You’re killin’ me, Smalls”
“Life’s a b*tch, now so am I.”
“Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?”
“Do you like scary movies?”
“Get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’”
“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”
“Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn’t one today.”
“Nobody calls me Lebowski. You got the wrong guy. I’m the Dude, man.”
“Congratulations. You’ve just won gold, silver, and bronze in the Morons Olympics!”
“Just when I think you couldn’t possibly be any dumber, you go and do something like this… and totally redeem yourself.”
“How do you like them apples?”
“Don’t let anyone, ever, make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want.”
“If there’s any kind of magic in this world… it must be in the attempt of understanding someone.”