Arthur Fleck: For my whole life, I didn't know if I even really existed. But I do, and people are starting to notice.
Arthur Fleck: What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash? You get what you fuckin' deserve.
Arthur Fleck: Better the blind man who pisses out of the window than the joker who told him it was a urinal. Know who the joker is? It's everybody.
Freddie Quell: What do you do?
Lancaster Dodd: I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist and a theoretical philosopher. But above all, I am a man, a hopelessly inquisitive man, just like you.
Marquis de Sade: This is a rare vintage from an obscure village in Bordeaux. Rather than crush the grape underfoot, they place the fruit on the belly of a bride, and reap its juices when the young husband steers his vessel into port. Full-bodied flavor, with just a hint of wantonness. Bottoms up.
Coulmier: It's from our own cellar. I recognize the taste.
Marquis de Sade: I should have told you it was the blood of Christ. You'd believe that, wouldn't you?
Coulmier: Listen to me Abbe and listen well. I've stared into the face of evil and I've lived to tell the tale and now, I beg you, for your sake, let me write it down.
Coulmier: An innocent child is dead.
Marquis de Sade: So many authors are denied the gratification of a concrete response to their work. I am blessed.
Coulmier: It's nothing but an encyclopedia of perversions. One man killed his wife after reading them.
Marquis de Sade: It's a fiction, not a moral treatise.
Coulmier: Murderer... Your words... your words drove Bouchon.
Marquis de Sade: Oh, for fuck's sake, Abbe! Suppose one of your precious inmates attempted to walk on water and drowned. Would you condemn the Bible? I think not.
Ivy Walker: When we are married, will you dance with me? I find dancing very agreeable. Why can you not say what is in your head?
Lucius Hunt: Why can you not stop saying what is in yours? Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What good is it to tell you you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think or do my work properly? What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety before all others. And yes, I will dance with you on our wedding night.
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