Scribble Quotes

Kaffee: [to Sam and JoAnne] They drew the court members this afternoon. Seven men, two women, five Navy, four Marines. All officers with line experience. Neither of the women have children. So that's a bad break. There 's nothing we can do. My father always said a jury trial is not just about the law. It's about "assigning blame". Santiago's dead, and he shouldn't be. These nine

people are going to insist that someone be "blamed" for that. Ross is handing them our clients. We're gonna hand them Kendrick. This is about a sales pitch. It's not going to won by the law, It's gonna be won by the lawyers. So remember, poker faces. Don't flinch in front of the court members. Something doesn't go our way, don't hang your head, don't shift in your seat, don't scribble furiously.

Whatever happens, you have to look like it's exactly what you knew would happen. If you pass me documents, Do it swiftly and don't look over anxious.

Clayton: [Draws a crude gorilla on Jane's chalkboard and points to it with the chalk] Gorilla.
Tarzan: [Takes the chalk and examines it] Gor-illa.
Professor Porter: [Excited] Oh! Oh! He's got it!
Tarzan: Gor-illa!
[Proceeds to scribble wildly on the chalkboard]
Tarzan:

Gorrrrr-illllla!
Professor Porter: Oh, perhaps not...

[Film stops, Llama Kuzco appears on screen]
Kuzco: Uh, excuse me. Two seconds here. I'm the one in the cart, remember? This story is about me.
[Circles the bag on the cart where he is]
Kuzco: Not him.
[Crosses out Pacha]
Kuzco: Okay, we're clear? All right, we're gonna move ahead. Sorry to keep you waiting.

[Exits; returns to scribble over Pacha; realizes he's still on screen, chuckles, then leaves; film starts up again]

Chaucer: Geoffrey Chaucer's the name, writing's the game.
[Turns away, turns back]
Chaucer: Chaucer? Geoffrey Chaucer, the writer?
Wat: A what?
Chaucer: A wha- a what? A writer. You know, I write, with ink and parchment. For a penny, I'll scribble you anything you want. From summons, decrees, edicts,

warrants, patents of nobility. I've even been know to jot down a poem or two, if the muse descends. You've probably read my book? the Book of the Duchess?
[They look at each other, shake their heads]
Chaucer: Fine. Well, it was allegorical.
Roland: Well, we won't hold that against you, that's for every man to decide for himself.

Writer: No one in the world has a conception about the Zone, so it'll be a sensation. Television, you lady fans getting hot flashes, people carrying brooms as if they were laurel wreaths. Then our professor appears all in whit and declaims, "Mene, mene. Tekel upharsin." Naturally, everyone gapes and shouts, "Give him the Nobel Prize!"
Professor: You

bedraggled hack writer. You homegrown psychologist. Fit only to scribble graffiti in lavatories, you talentless clod.
Writer: That's feeble stuff. Call that an insult? You don't know how it's done.
Professor: All right. Suppose I'm after a Nobel Prize. What are you after? Want to bestow on mankind the pearls of your bought inspiration?

Writer: I spit on mankind. In all of mankind, only one man interests me. And that's me. Am I worth anything or am I shit like certain other people?
Professor: What if you find out that's indeed what you are?
Writer: Know something, Einstein? I don't want to argue with you.
Professor: Truth is born in

arguments, damn it.