Chalk it up to boredom or lack of a social life. Or maybe it's just that I tend to get addicted to things that make me laugh. Whatever the explanation, I've seen my favorite films bundles of times -- so much so that the dialogue is embedded deep in my subconscious. Normally, my redundant viewing wouldn't be a problem. So I have a hobby. So I have a tried-and-true method for falling asleep at night. Good for me. But, increasingly, I've noticed that, throughout the course of my daily discourse, witty quips involuntarily fly out of my mouth and I have no clue as to their origin. Until it dawns on me: "Oh, that's Lucas from Empire Records." Or, "Ah, I'm doing Robert Downey, Jr., fourth season, Ally McBeal."
Why is this a problem? Well, it's a problem because the line between fiction and reality has become blurred (and I don't even have the luxury of blaming it on psychotropics). It's a problem because, apparently, I'm not as naturally witty as I thought I was. And because, well, dammit, why didn't I write that line first?!
I'm not talking about the magical bits of dialogue that are performance-based. Val Kilmer's "huckleberry" in Tombstone. Bill Murray's "ahoy" in What about Bob? Johnny Depp's "savvy" in Pirates. Or Napoleon's "gosh" in Dynamite. Those lines are timeless because of the actors' inflection or comedic timing.
Instead, I'm talking about dialogue that stands the test of time purely based on its content, regardless of the actor's delivery. A small collection:
I need more out of this relationship than I'm willing to put in. I think I deserve better, don't you? Hey, I know this is hard on you. It would be hard on me too, if I broke up with me. I know what you're losing. (Strangers with Candy)
If heaven is such a wonderful place, then how come being crucified is such a big fucking sacrifice? (Igby Goes Down)
Phil: Who's your perfect guy?
Rita: First of all, he's too humble to know he's perfect.
Phil: That's me.
Rita: He's intelligent, supportive, funny...
Phil: That's me.
Rita: He's intelligent, supportive, funny...
Phil: Intelligent, supportive, funny...me, me, me.
(Groundhog Day)

Well, opinions are like assholes, honey. Everybody's got one and everybody thinks everybody else's stinks. (Home for the Holidays)
Wanda: To call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people! I've known sheep that could outwit you. I've worn dresses with higher IQs. But you think you're an intellectual, don't you, ape?
Otto West: Apes don't read philosophy.
Wanda: Yes they do, Otto. They just don't understand it. Now let me correct you on a couple of things, OK? Aristotle was not Belgian. The central message of Buddhism is not "Every man for himself." And the London Underground is not a political movement. Those are all mistakes, Otto. I looked them up.
(A Fish Called Wanda)Otto West: Apes don't read philosophy.
Wanda: Yes they do, Otto. They just don't understand it. Now let me correct you on a couple of things, OK? Aristotle was not Belgian. The central message of Buddhism is not "Every man for himself." And the London Underground is not a political movement. Those are all mistakes, Otto. I looked them up.
In some instances, a film's dialogue reads great on the page, but it becomes even better when mixed with grade "A" acting chops. The result is classic material that soars -- every screenwriters dream come true, I imagine. A few:
Kelly Scott: Tents? We're staying in tents?
Sheriff Hank Keough: I told you...two days we'd have to camp.
Kelly Scott: Yes, camp. But I thought that meant Ramada Inn. I never heard tents. Will there be toilets?
Jack Wells: Maybe we should just take you back.
Kelly Scott: Why? Because I prefer a toilet? Maybe I should just wipe myself with some leafy little piece of poison oak. And then I can spend the whole day scratchin' my ass, blendin' in with the natives.
(Bridget Fonda as Kelly Scott in Lake Placid)
By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me. (Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada)
I'm not shooting for a "successful" relationship at this point. I'm just looking for something that will prevent me from throwing myself in front of a bus. I'm keeping my expectations very, very low. Basically, I'm just looking for a mammal. That's my bottom line. And I'm really very flexible on that, too. (Janeane Garofalo as Lucille in Bye Bye Love)
I don't have to write the next great American novel. I'd settle for just one fantastic line of dialogue that makes it onto the big screen. A word, even. Like the "kid" in "Here's looking at you, kid." (double ref: Casablanca and The Holiday)
As I continue to finesse my one line of history-making dialogue, I'm curious, what lines of dialogue do you wish you had written?

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