Mike Wallace: You cut it! You cut the guts out of what I said.
Eric Kluster: It was a time consideration, Mike.
Mike Wallace: Time? Bullshit! You corporate lackey! Who told you your incompetent little fingers had the requisite skills to edit me?
Lowell Bergman: In all that time, Mike, did you ever get out a plane, walk into a room and find that a source for a story changed his mind? Lost his heart? Walked out on us? Not one fucking time. You want to know why?
Mike Wallace: I see a rhetorical question on the horizon.
Lowell Bergman: I'm gonna tell you why: because when I tell someone I'm gonna do something, I deliver.
Alex: You've got some nice pieces here.
Simon Wyler: Oh, yeah. Music's fine, music helps. It's like Nietzche says... Life would be.
Alex: Senseless with music.
Sofya Tolstaya: I'm your little bird, you know the sounds I make.
Leo Tolstoy: And that was some sort of love call, I suppose?
Sofya Tolstaya: Brought you back to me.
William Fawcett Robinson: Excess within control.
Maria: I am not finished yet, Captain!
Captain Von Trapp: Oh yes you are, Captain! Fraulein, you will pack your things this minute and return to the Abbey.
Captain von Trapp: Fraulein, is it to be at every meal, or merely at dinnertime, that you intend on leading us all through this rare and wonderful new world of... Indigestion?
Max: Hold on. What's so funny?
Captain von Trapp: You are, Max. Expensive, but very funny.
Captain von Trapp: Oh, there's nothing wrong with the children. Only the governesses.
The Emperor: For the space of three minutes, every molecule on this planet will be immobilized. But after the third minute, the green ray loses it's power. Time will flow once more and everything will explode.
Simon: Three minutes are enough, father.
The Emperor: Our galaxy is split into two warring factions: our own and the one ruled by the evil Count Zarth Arn from the League of the Dark Worlds.
The Emperor: You know, my son, I wouldn't be Emperor of the Galaxy if I didn't have some powers at my disposal. Imperial Battleship, halt the flow of time.
Dean Whiting: In this town, you're innocent until you're investigated.
Dean Whiting: Bennett.
Bennett Holiday: Sir?
Dean Whiting: At my firm, I have a flock of sheep who think they're lions. Maybe you're a lion everyone thinks is a sheep.
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