Etikettarkiv: Thriller

Ocean's twelve

Ocean’s twelve

Citat,

Matsui: So, business?
Danny Ocean: Business.
Rusty Ryan: A doctor, who specializes in skin diseases, will dream he has fallen asleep in front of the television. Later, he will wake up in front of the television, but not remember his dream.
Matsui: [to Caldwell] Would you agree?
[Caldwell is visibly perplexed and perturbed, shaking his head]
Matsui: .
Danny Ocean: If all the animals along the equator were capable of flattery, then Thanksgiving and Hallowe'en… would fall… on the same day.
Rusty Ryan: Mm.
Matsui: Yeah. Hey. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Matsui: When I was four years old, I watched my mother kill a spider… with a teacosy. Years later, I realised it was not a spider – it was my Uncle Harold.
Linus Caldwell: [All eyes turn to him, expectantly] Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face, stars fill my dreams.
[Ryan claps hand across eyes]
Linus Caldwell: I am a traveller in both time and space, to be where I have been.
[Blank, yet stern, looks from everyone]
Linus Caldwell: [Outside, Ryan and Ocean join Caldwell in the street] Is he alright? Are we alright?
Rusty Ryan: Kashmir?
Danny Ocean: Is that your idea of making a contribution?
Rusty Ryan: We hadn't even started. We ain't even got to the terms yet.
Danny Ocean: We came this close to losing that.
Linus Caldwell: Hey, I don't even understand what happened in there. What did I say?
Danny Ocean: You called his niece a whore.
Rusty Ryan: A very cheap one.
Linus Caldwell: What?
Danny Ocean: She's seven.
Rusty Ryan: Currently confined to bed with a wicked case of…
Danny Ocean: No, you don't need to tell him that…
Linus Caldwell: Sorry.
Linus Caldwell: OK. So what does this mean?
Rusty Ryan: It means you stay here.

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The road warrior

The road warrior

Citat, , ,

[first lines]
Narrator: My life fades. The vision dims. All that remains are memories. I remember a time of chaos… ruined dreams… this wasted land. But most of all, I remember The Road Warrior. The man we called "Max." To understand who he was, you have to go back to another time… when the world was powered by the black fuel… and the desert sprouted great cities of pipe and steel. Gone now… swept away. For reasons long forgotten, two mighty warrior tribes went to war, and touched off a blaze which engulfed them all. Without fuel they were nothing. They'd built a house of straw. The thundering machines sputtered and stopped. Their leaders talked and talked and talked. But nothing could stem the avalanche. Their world crumbled. The cities exploded. A whirlwind of looting, a firestorm of fear. Men began to feed on men. On the roads it was a white line nightmare. Only those mobile enough to scavenge, brutal enough to pillage would survive. The gangs took over the highways, ready to wage war for a tank of juice. And in this maelstrom of decay, ordinary men were battered and smashed… men like Max… the warrior Max. In the roar of an engine, he lost everything… and became a shell of a man… a burnt-out, desolate man, a man haunted by the demons of his past, a man who wandered out into the wasteland. And it was here, in this blighted place, that he learned to live again.

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