Charlie Kaufman: My leg hurts, I wonder if it's cancer? There's a bump. I'm starting to sweat. Stop sweating. I've got to stop sweating. Can she see it dripping down my forehead? She looked at my hair line. She thinks I'm bald. She.
Valerie Thomas: We think you're great.
Charlie Kaufman: Oh, wow, thanks. Well, that's nice to hear.
Charlie Kaufman: We open on Charlie Kaufman. Fat, old, bald, repulsive, sitting in a Hollywood restaurant, across from Valerie Thomas, a lovely, statuesque film executive. Kaufman, trying to get a writing assignment, wanting to impress her, sweats profusely. Fat, bald Kaufman paces furiously in his bedroom. He speaks into his hand held tape recorder, and he says: "Charlie Kaufman. Fat, bald, repulsive, old, sits at a Hollywood restaurant with Valerie Thomas."
Amos Odell: You give me a million dollars, I give you a hostage. You give me a helicopter, I give you a hostage. You let me fly out of here.
Chief of Police Cecil Tolliver: All right. All right. I saw the damn movie.
Joe: I was taught four rules.
Joe: One: Don't ask questions. There is no such thing as right and wrong.
Joe: Two: Don't take an interest in people outside of work. There is no such thing as trust.
Joe: Three: Erase every trace. Come anonymous and leave nothing behind.
Joe: Four: Know when to get out. Just thinking about it means it's time. Before you lose your edge, before you become a target.
Frank Pierce: You said if I came in late for another shift, you'd fire me.
Captain Barney: I'll fire you tomorrow.
Marcus: Rule Number One: Don't get involved with patients. Rule Number Two: don't get involved with patients' daughters, now do you understand that?
Frank Pierce: What about Rule Number Three: Don't get involved with dispatchers named Love?
Marcus: Boy, you don't know nothin' bout Rule Number Three! Can't even begin to understand the complexities of that rule.
Frank Pierce: Oh, I see. With all the poor people of this city who wanted only to live and were viciously murdered, you have the nerve to sit here, wanting to die, and not go through with it? You make me sick.
Tom Wall: Frank, what are you doing back there?
Frank Pierce: I'm sick, Tom. I need a cure. Vitamin B cocktail, followed by an amp of glucose and a drop of adrenaline. Not as good as beer, but it's all I got.
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