I'm sure I had low-level scurvy all of my childhood.
Paradoxically Americans are becoming both more obese and more nutrient deficient at the same time. Obese children eating processed foods are nutrient depleted and increasingly get scurvy and rickets, diseases we thought were left behind in the 19th and 20th centuries.
George Bailey: You sit around here and you spin your little webs and you think the whole world revolves around you and your money. Well, it doesn't, Mr. Potter. In the whole vast configuration of things, I'd say you were nothing but a scurvy little spider! And...
[turning to his aide]
George Bailey: And that goes for you, too!
George Bailey: [to Potter] In the whole vast configuration of things I'd say you were nothing but a scurvy little spider.
[to Potter's bodyguard]
George Bailey: And that goes for you too.
[to Potter's employees at the bank]
George Bailey: And it goes for you too.
Dr. Gonzo: [throwing objects at Duke] HOLY SHIT!
Raoul Duke: [grabs megaphone and Mace can] Mace! Mace, man! You want this?
Dr. Gonzo: You'd do that, wouldn't you?
Raoul Duke: Well, why not?
Dr. Gonzo: You fucking bastard!
Raoul Duke: Hell, just a minute ago you
were asking me to kill you. Now you wanna kill me. What I *should* do, goddamn it, is CALL THE FUCKING POLICE!
Dr. Gonzo: Boy, are you upset. There'd be no point, man, calling the cops.
Raoul Duke: There's no choice. I wouldn't dare go to sleep with you wandering around with a head full of acid, wanting to slice me up with that goddamn knife.
Dr. Gonzo: [gasps] Who said anything about slicing you up, man? I just wanted to cut a little "Z" in your forehead.
[giggles]
Raoul Duke: Get back in the tub, eat some reds and try to calm down. Smoke some grass. Shoot some fucking smack. Shit, man, do whatever you gotta do, but please... I need some fucking rest, man. Please. Please. GET UP, YOU PIG
FUCKER! UP! *UP!*
Dr. Gonzo: Well, I, uh... yeah. You need to get to work. Goddamn, what a bummer.
Raoul Duke: You scurvy shyster bastard! I'm a Doctor of Journalism, man.
[herds Dr. Gonzo toward the bathroom]
Raoul Duke: Go on.
Dr. Gonzo: Don't let me keep you up.
Raoul
Duke: Now...
Dr. Gonzo: Don't let me keep you up.
[grabs blankets from bed]
Raoul Duke: [sounds megaphone siren repeatedly, backing Dr. Gonzo inside] Get in there and clean your shorts! Clean your shorts, goddamn it, like a big boy! Go on!
[kicks bathroom door shut]
[Jonas Skat is in a tree which Death is cutting down]
Jonas Skat: Hey, you scurvy knave, what are you doing with my tree? You might at least answer. Who are you?
Death: I'm felling your tree. Your time is up.
Jonas Skat: You can't. I haven't time.
Death: So you haven't time?
Jonas
Skat: No. My performance...
Death: Cancelled... because of Death.
Jonas Skat: It's the filthy Smith who insulted my beloved lady, the fair Kunigunda.
Blacksmith Plog: What did you call her?
Lisa, blacksmith's wife: Kunigunda. Are you deaf?
Jöns, squire: Kunigunda.
Blacksmith Plog: Her name is Lisa. Strumpet Lisa. Rumpy, smutty, slutty Lisa.
Lisa, blacksmith's wife: How coarse he is.
Blacksmith Plog: Go find your own trash, you gilded pimp!
Lisa, blacksmith's wife: What a brute!
Jonas Skat: You scabby bastard of seven scurvy bitches, if I were in your lousy rags, I'd be so ashamed of everything about my person that I would immediately rid nature
of my own embarrassing self.