Jack Nicholson (back to the J list / N list)

Melvin: You make me want to be a better man.

Melvin: Never, never interrupt me, okay? Not if there is a fire, not even if you hear the sound of a thud from my home and one week later there's a smell coming from there that can only be a decaying human body and you have to hold a hankie to your face because the stench is so thick that you think you're going to faint. Even then, don't come knocking.

Melvin: Or, if it's election night, and you're excited and you wanna celebrate because some fudgepacker you date has been elected the first queer president of the United States, and he's going to have you down to Camp David, and you want someone to share the moment with. Even then, don't knock. Not on this door. Not for any reason. Do you get me sweetheart?

Melvin: Is he dead yet?

Nora: No. Would there be any way that you would be willing to walk his dog for him?

Melvin: Absolutely.

Nora: You're a wonderful man. Two o'clock would be a good time. And here is the key in case he is asleep. Open his curtains for him, so he can see God's beautiful work, and he'll know that even things like this happen for the best.

Melvin: Where do they teach you to talk like this? In some Panama City sailor wanna hump hump bar? Or is this getaway day in your last shot at his whiskey? Sell crazy somplace else. We're all stocked up here.

The Joker: Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?

Carl Grissom: That you, sugar bumps?

[Grissom turns around and sees a shadowy figure]

Carl Grissom: Who the hell are you?

The Joker: It's me.... Sugar bumps.

Carl Grissom: Jack? Oh. Oh. Thank god you're alive. I've heard you've been...

The Joker: Fried? Is that what you heard?

[Joker takes a few steps towards Grissom, then stops.]

The Joker: You set me up over a woman. A WOMAN! You must be insane.

[Grissom takes a drink from his glass. He then walks to his desk to pour another drink and get his gun. The Joker pulls out a gun and points it at Grissom.]

The Joker: Don't bother.

[Grissom puts down the container of alcohol and leaves the gun where it is. He then turns angrily to the Joker.]

Carl Grissom: Your life won't be worth spit!

The Joker: I've been dead once already. It's very liberating. You should think of it as, uh....therapy.

Carl Grissom: Jack...listen...maybe we can cut a deal.

[The Joker starts walking into the light and removes his hat.]

The Joker: Jack? Jack is dead, my friend. You can call me...Joker. And as you can see, I'm a lot happier.

The Joker: Where does he get those wonderful toys?

The Joker: I am the world's first, fully functional, homicidal artist. I make art until somebody dies.

The Joker: This town needs an enema!

Batman: I'm going to kill you!

The Joker: You IDIOT! You made me. Remember, you dropped me into that vat of chemicals. That wasn't easy to get over, and don't think that I didn't try!

Batman: You killed my parents.

The Joker: What? What? What are you talking about?

Batman: I made you, you made me first.

The Joker: Give me a break. I was a kid when I killed your parents. When I say "I made you" you gotta say "you made me." How childish can you get?

The Joker: And now, folks, it's time for "Who do you trust!" Hubba, hubba, hubba! Money, money, money! Who do you trust? Me? I'm giving away free money. And where is the Batman? HE'S AT HOME WASHING HIS TIGHTS!

The Joker: Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But remember, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile.

[The Joker is dancing with Vicki Vale in the bell tower of the cathedral.]

The Joker: It's as though we were made for each other. Beauty and the beast. Of course, if anyone else calls you a beast, I'll rip their lungs out.

Vicki Vale: You're insane.

The Joker: Thought I was a Pisces.

Col. Nathan R. Jessep: Son, we live in a world that has walls and those walls need to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and 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 that 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 then as the backbone of a life trying to defend 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 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 that you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

McMurphy: What do you think you are, for Chrissake, crazy or somethin'? Well you're not! You're not! You're no crazier than the average asshole out walkin' around on the streets, and that's it.

Jack Torrance: Heeere's Johnny!

Jack Torrance: Wendy, let me explain something to you. Whenever you come in here and interrupt me, you're breaking my concentration. You're distracting me. And it will then take me time to get back to where I was. You understand?

Wendy Torrance: Yeah.

Jack Torrance: Now, we're going to make a new rule. When you come in here and you hear me typing [types], or whether you DON'T hear me typing, or whatever the FUCK you hear me doing, when I'm in here, it means that I am working. THAT means don't come in. Now, do you think you can handle that?

Wendy Torrance: Yeah.

Jack Torrance: Good. Now why don't you start right now and get the fuck out of here?

Lloyd: Women. Can't live with them, can't live without them.

Jack Torrance: Words of wisdom, Lloyd, my man. Words of wisdom.

Lloyd: What will you be drinking, sir?

Jack Torrance: Hair of the dog that bit me, Lloyd.

Jack Torrance: God, I'd give anything for a drink. I'd give my god-damned soul for just a glass of beer.

Jack Torrance: Here's to five miserable months on the wagon, and all the irreparable harm it has caused me.

Mary: Is the worm turning, Mr. Randall?

Will Randall: The worm has turned and it is now packing an Uzi, Mary.

Mary: It's about fucking time, sir.

Will Randall: I think I'm dangerous. Especially at night.