Wendy Torrance: Stay away from me.
Jack Torrance: Why?
Wendy Torrance: I just wanna go back to my room.
Jack Torrance: Why?
Wendy Torrance: Well, I'm very confused and I just need time to think things over.
Jack Torrance: You've had your whole fucking life to think things over.
What good's a few minutes more gonna do you now?
Jack Torrance: Are you out of your fucking mind?
Jack Torrance: Heeere's Johnny!
Lloyd: Women. Can't live with them, can't live without them.
Jack Torrance: Words of wisdom, Lloyd, my man. Words of wisdom.
Jack Torrance: God, I'd give anything for a drink. I'd give my god-damned soul for just a glass of beer.
Lloyd: What will you be drinking, sir?
Jack Torrance: Hair of the dog that bit me, Lloyd.
Jack Torrance: Here's to five miserable months on the wagon, and all the irreparable harm it has caused me.
Jack Torrance: Here's Johnny!
Jack Torrance: Little pigs. Little pigs. Let me come in. Now by the hair on your chinny chinny chin? Then, I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!
Harry Sanborn: Some people consider rap poetry.
Erica Barry: C'mon, how many words can you rhyme with bitch?
Harry Sanborn: I can't get past your damn turtleneck.
Erica Barry: Cut it off.
Erica Barry: I DO like sex.
Harry Sanborn: You certainly do.
Aurora Greenway: I'm inviting you to come over and look at my Renoir.
Garrett Breedlove: You're inviting me to bed.
Aurora Greenway: It happens to be in my bedroom.
Garrett Breedlove: Is the Renoir under the covers?
Aurora Greenway: Don't cackle, Garrett. Do you want to see it?
Garrett Breedlove: You're just going to have to trust me about this one thing. You need a lot of drinks.
Aurora Greenway: To break the ice?
Garrett Breedlove: To kill the bug that you have up your ass.
Garrett Breedlove: I like the lights on.
Aurora Greenway: Then go home and turn them on.
Aurora Greenway: If I don't answer the bell, that means the back door's open.
Garrett Breedlove: The back door's open?
Daryl Van Horne: Men are such cocksuckers aren't they? You don't have to answer that. It's true. They're scared. Their dicks get limp when confronted by a woman of obvious power and what do they do about it? Call them witches, burn them, torture them, until every woman is afraid. Afraid of herself... afraid of men... and all for what? Fear of losing their hard-on.
Daryl Van Horne: You may think me crazy, but I know music. It's the one thing that makes me humble.
Daryl Van Horne: I see men running around trying to put their dicks into everything, trying to make something happen... but it's women who are the source... the only power. Nature, birth, rebirth. Cliche? Cliche... sure... but true.
Daryl Van Horne: I see men, sixty, seventy years old breaking their balls to stay fit! What for? When I die, I want to be sick, not healthy.
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