Beautiful Girls (1996)
Marty: I like to mash snow. It gives me a tremendous feeling of self satisfaction.
Gina: I'm finished speaking to both of you okay? You're both fucking insane. You want to know what your problem is? MTV, Playboy, and Madison fucking Avenue. Yes. Let me explain something to you, ok? Girls with big tits have big asses. Girls with little tits have little asses. That's the way it goes. God doesn't fuck around; he's a fair guy. He gave the fatties big, beautiful tits and the skinnies little tiny niddlers. It's not my rule. If you don't like it, call him. Hey Mitch. Thank you.
[Looking at a porn magazine]
Gina: Oh, guys, look what we have here. Look at this, your favorite. Oh, you like that?
Tommy: I could go along with that.
Gina: Yeah, that's nice right? Well, it doesn't exist ok. Look at the hair. The hair is long, it's flowing, it's like a river. Well, it's a fucking weave ok? And the tits, please! I could hang my overcoat on them. Tits by design were invented to be suckled by babies. Yes, they're purely functional. These are silicon city. And look, my favorite, the shaved pubis. Pubic hair being too unruly and all. Very key. This is a mockery, this is a sham, this is bullshit. Implants, collagen, plastic, capped teeth, the fat sucked out, the hair extended, the nose fixed, the bush shaved... These are not real women, all right? They're beauty freaks. And they make all us normal women with our wrinkles, our puckered boobs, hi bob, and our cellulite feel somehow inadequate. Well I don't buy it, all right? But you fucking mooks, if you think that if there's a chance in hell that you'll end up with one of these women, you don't give us real women anything approaching a commitment. It's pathetic. I don't know what you think you're going to do. You're going to end up eighty-years old, drooling in some nursing home, then you're going to decide, it's time to settle down, get married, have kids? What, are you going to find a cheerleader? Charge it Mitch.
Tommy: I think you're over simplifying.
Gina: Oh eat me. Look at Paul. With his models on the wall, his dog named Elle McPherson. He's insane. He's obsessed. You're all obsessed. If you had an once of self-esteem, of self-worth, of self-confidence, you would realize that as trite as it may sound, beauty is truly skin-deep. And you know what, if you ever did hook one of those girls, I guarantee you'd be sick of her.
Tommy: Yeah, I suppose I'd get sick of her after about, what, twenty or thirty years?
Gina: Get over yourself. Thank you Mitch. Say hello to Gertrude.
Gina: No mater how perfect the nipple, how supple the thigh, unless there is some other shit going on in the relationship, besides the physical, it's going to get old, ok? And you guys, as a gender, have got to get a grip. Otherwise, the future of the human race is in jeopardy.
Willie Conway: What was that?
Tommy: I don't know, but a great ass.
Willie Conway: Nice tits. Come on let's go.
Paul: Supermodels are beautiful girls, Will. A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you've been drinking Jack and Coke all morning. She can make you feel high full of the single greatest commodity known to man - promise. Promise of a better day. Promise of a greater hope. Promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl. In her smile, in her soul, the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it's going to be okay. The supermodels, Willy? That's all they are. Bottled promise. Scenes from a brand new day. Hope dancing in stiletto heels.
Willie Conway: I can't play Pooh to your Christopher Robin.
Andera: So why the sad face?
Willie Conway: Job requirement. Happy piano players work the circus.
Paul: So you're the little neighborhood Lolita.
Marty: So you're the alcoholic high school buddy shit for brains.
Paul: Did you hear that Andera went back to Chicago? She was supposed to stay through the reunion. She just up and left. What did you say to her in that ice shack, Will?
Willie Conway: I told you, we just talked.
Paul: You told her things, didn't you?
Willie Conway: What things?
Paul: You let her behind the curtain, didn't you?
Willie Conway: Maybe she missed her boyfriend.
Paul: You let her behind the curtain, I know you did. You never let them behind the curtain Will. You never let them see the little old man behind the curtain working the levers of the great and powerful OZ. They are all sisters Willie... they aren't allowed back there... they mustn't see.
Willie Conway: Tell me the truth. You stay up nights thinking about this shit?
Paul: You say it like it's a bad thing.
Willie Conway: I was jealous of a little kid on a bike, because he gets to be her age, and I'm this vile old man. Like that guy, what's-his-name...
Michael 'Mo' Morris: Roman Polanski?
Jan: Only when faced with losing me do you decide you want to spend the rest of your life with me.
Paul: So, what's wrong with that? I didn't like the alternative. I mean that's how one usually comes to a decision anyway, right?
Jan: Wrong again, Paul - one comes to a decision based on what one wants, not based on what one doesn't want. Got it?
Willie Conway: You know in five years you won't even remember me.
Marty: What we've been doing lately is smoking massive amounts of drugs, binging on Entemmann's and listening to old Pink Floyd CD's.
Marty: If I'm not mistaken, you've come back here to the house of loneliness and tears, to Daddy Downer and Brother Bummer, to come to some sort of decision about life, a life decision if you will.
Willie Conway: How old are you?
Marty: Thirteen. But I have an old soul.
Willie Conway: I just want something beautiful, Mo.
Michael 'Mo' Morris: We all want something beautiful, Willie.
Tracy: You look awful.
Willie Conway: I've been drunk for two weeks.
Willie Conway: You know how it is, the beginnings? When you first fall in love and you can't eat, you can't sleep and getting a call from her, it makes your day. It's like seeing a shooting star.
Andera: It's the best.
Willie Conway: Yeah, but, inevitably it goes away. It quiets down. So, this is my thing see, why get married now? Why not have two, three more of those beginning things before I, you know, settle into the big fade?
Andera: The big fade, that's a awful way to put it.
Willie Conway: I look at you and I think it's amazing that there's a guy out there gets to do all kinds of things with you. He gets to make you happy and spend evenings with you...
Andera: ...make me martinis, listen to Van Morrison...
Willie Conway: ...smell your skin...
Andera: ...after a day at the beach.
Willie Conway: Yeah, and read the papers...
Andera: ...on a Sunday morning...
Willie Conway: ...a rainy Sunday morning, and pepper your belly with baby kisses... Sorry.
Andera: The thing is, there's a guy out there thinks the same thing about Tracy and he's jealous of you because you get to do all that with her. Willie: Let me ask you something; can you think of anything better than making love to an attractive stranger... with just an oil light to guide your way? Can you think of anything better?
Andera: Going back to Chicago. Ice cold martini. Van Morrison.
Willie Conway: Sunday papers. Got ya.
Tommy: Can I ask you a question?
Andera: Go ahead.
Tommy: How long have you been going out with you boyfriend?
Andera: Eight months.
Tommy: And it's good?
Andera: It's very good.
Tommy: He makes you happy?
Andera: Yeah. I look for that in a man you know. The ones that make me miserable don't seem to last.
Andera: You know there are fours words I need to hear before I go to sleep. Four little words. "Good night sweet girl." That's all it takes. I'm easy, I know, but a guy who can muster up those four words is a guy I want to stay with.
Stinky: Do you see her face? Girls like that are born with a boyfriend.
Willie Conway: Do you want to go home with me?
Willie Conway: I had to ask, because to be honest with you, I don't find you the least bit attractive. Now do you want to go home with me?
Paul: What kind of future can she have with this guy, he cuts meat.
Tommy: You plow snow.
Kev: Hey, at least meat you can eat.
Andera: Are you drunk?
Willie Conway: I'm not sure. But the two of you look beautiful tonight.
Gina: At first, after the breakup, you'll have these visions. Of you alone, 57,58, walking around, wearing a nightgown, your hair in a bun, maybe you're a librarian, heating up a can of soup for one, and worrying about the cobwebs that are growing in your womb.
Paul: See these guys? Pete, Rizzo and Sammy B? They work all day and drink all night for 40 fucking years. Two weeks out of the year, they take a vacation and go to the Cape. What do they do? They drink all day, they drink all night. If we don't step it up, we're gonna wind up just like them.
Willie Conway: [from a window] Hey.
Marty: Romeo and Juliet, the dyslexic version.
Paul: A beautiful girl is all-powerful and that's as good as love. That's as good as love.
Sharon: How can I get to you when the high point of your life was high school? You were king of the hill then.
Sharon: Why is it when a relationship doesn't work, we say its because he can't commit? Don't I bear some of the blame here?
Tracy: I don't think you should take that job. Piano players are sexy, salesmen are uncles.
Kev: It's a trend in diamonds. Champagne. It's a nice stone.
Willie Conway: Yeah, no, I heard about this. It's a new trend in the diamond trade, they're trying to create a new market.
Tommy: Oh, right, right. yeah. They were callin' 'em "piss", but they weren't moving any units. What's with you, man?
Paul Kirkwood: What?
Tommy: Well, how much you pay for this brown rock?
Paul Kirkwood: What difference does it make?
Tommy: Diamonds are supposed to be colorless! You go out and buy a colored diamond for a girl you're not even seeing, man, you must be eating retard sandwiches again.
Willie Conway: I am now going to check your freezer for human heads.
Paul: I don't care, man. If she can cut her own food, she's fair game.
Kev: No Sambuca today, Darian?
Darian: It's five o'clock in the morning.
Kev: Does that make it too early or too late?
Darian: You can slip into something more comfortable.
Tommy: Like what?
Darian: Like me.
Tommy: No, Paul is not my friend. He lives in my house. I got cockroaches, I got termites... I got Paul.
Willie Conway: What are you doing?
Marty: Another exciting Saturday night.
Willie Conway: You got many exciting Saturday nights in your future.
Marty: Yeah, yeah. So your lady's here, huh?
Willie Conway: Yeah, yeah.
Marty: I saw her. She- she's really pretty.
Willie Conway: She's OK. She's not as pretty as you, though.
Marty: Kinda got that boob-thing going for her .
Paul: Willie C.! What's up bad boy!
Willie Conway: Paulie!
Paul: You remember Elle MacPherson?
Willie Conway: Hey Elle! How you doing?
Paul: Jan's banging some meat cutter.
Tommy: How long you been going out with your boyfriend?
Andera: About 8 months.
Tommy: And it's good?
Andera: Yes, it's very good.
Tommy: He makes you happy?
Andera: Yeah. I look for that in a man, you know? The ones who make me miserable don't seem to last.
Paul: Willie, my friend, she is delightful.
Willie Conway: "Delightful"? Who are you, Rex Harrison?
Paul: Seriously, what is your major malfunction? I mean, she's smart, she's funny, she's charming, she's got a great ass, a nice rack as far as I can tell?
Willie Conway: Nice rack.
Paul: She's rich, she's got a *great ass*.
Willie Conway: Yeah, you mentioned that.
Paul: [holds out ring box after proposing] Jan...
Paul: [taps her shoulder with ring box] Jan!
Jan: [pushes his shoulder back] Paul!
Paul: Take the fuckin' ring!
Jan: Oh, that's romantic.