Margaret Quotes in The Karate Kid Part III (1989)

[after Terry Silver met Mike Barnes]

Terry Silver: So what do you think?

Margaret: Oh, he's obnoxious.

Terry Silver: [laughing] Yeah. He's perfect.

[relaxes into bubble bath]

Margaret: [to Terry Silver whose taking bubble bath and smoking a cigar] And if you do not pay your bills, I will sue you for everything you are worth.

Terry Silver: [whatever type of voice] Yeah. Yeah. Look, I'll have the check out by five.

Margaret: And what about the court on the green?

Terry Silver: Do what I usually do. Bribe them.

Margaret: [astonished shockness] Mr. Silver.

Margaret: [Flashback. She's made her son look at slutty centerfolds] Did you look at them? Did you see the sin? Do you see the sin? Look into their eyes. The eyes are the windows of the soul.

Margaret: [to Jacob. Referring to Kira in the cage] I'd like you to tell me... why is that whore still alive?

Margaret: Michael, is it?

Michael: Yeah. You want me to be shot-caller?

Margaret: No, no. We want you to your mop. The lavatory's over there.

[Margaret's Fuzzbuster goes off]

Margaret: That's strange. That only happens when there's cops around. Say, sugar, whatcha got under there?

[Gus takes off his towel]

Gus Gold: Nothing.

Lea Roberts: You're right about that.

[the Ferrari stops at a red light]

Lea Roberts: Okay, baby, let's go to work.

Margaret: How about we start with a few green lights?

[Margaret uses her computer to turn the lights green and the Ferrari takes off. The other Cannonballers approach the intersection]

Margaret: Time to separate the men from the girls!

[Margaret uses her computer to turn the lights back to red]

Margaret: [to a pair of surfers] Oh, Todd!

Lea Roberts: You know him?

Margaret: No, but one them's always named Todd.

Margaret: You're the professor, professor.

Bree: I got a phone call last night from a juvenile inmate of the New York prison system. He claimed to be Stanley's son.

Margaret: No third-person.

[brief pause]

Bree: My son.

[Bree gestures at heart, crying]

Bree Osbourne: It hurts.

Margaret: Oh, honey, that's what hearts do.

Margaret: Look, isn't that those Nestrians?

Flamingo: Oh, yeah. Finally they found where they belong.

Lion: Yeah, probably we should've told them at the check-in, don't you think?

Margaret: Miriam, there's no easy way to tell you this, so - your husband - he was granted a divorce from you in 1952.

Miriam: Oh, thank God!

[Snooping Around Jonathan and Gethin's Spare Room]

Hefina: What I want to know is...

[Pulls Out a Pink Dildo]

Hefina: What's this?

[Hefina, Sian, Margaret, Gwen and Gail All Start Laughing]

Sian: Hefina! Put That Back Immediately!

Hefina: That's nothing. Here, look what else I've found.

Margaret: You never went under his bed!

[Pulls Out a Gay Porno Mag, Women Start Laughing Harder]

Hefina: When was the last time you saw anything like that, huh? When? When?

[Cut to Gethin and Jonathan Trying to Sleep in Their Room, Women Hysterically Laughing Coming in from the Other Room]

Jonathan: Don't those women ever sleep?

[Cut Back to The Women in The Spare Room]

Hefina: Jesus God that takes me back!

[Hysterical Laughter Continues]

Judge: [at the auction] This magnificent piece is encrusted with rubies and fifteen emerald chips. It was donated by Morticia and Gomez... Addams. Remember, this year, over half our proceeds will benefit the elderly and the mentally disabled.

[Gomez and Morticia look fondly at Grandmama]

Judge: I'll open the bidding at five thousand dollars.

Gomez: Five - , hah! Not good enough. Twenty thousand!

Margaret: [frantic] What are they *doing*?

Judge: I have twenty.

Gomez: Twenty-five!

[to Morticia]

Gomez: Cara mia?

Judge: Twenty-five.

Morticia: Thirty.

[to Gomez]

Morticia: Mon sauvage.

Gomez: [voice cracks] Thirty-five!

[to Morticia]

Gomez: Eres divina.

Morticia: Mm, fifty!

Judge: I have fifty thousand dollars.

Morticia: [to Gomez] Your turn, my ecstasy.

Judge: Fifty thousand going once, fifty thousand going twice. Sold to Morticia Addams for fifty... thousand... dollars.

[looks disgusted as Gomez and Morticia do something obscene]

Morticia: Margaret?

Margaret: Hmm?

Morticia: About the séance tonight, I wish you'd come. It's Gomez I'm terribly worried about. He won't eat, he can't sleep, he keeps coughing up blood.

Margaret: He coughs up blood?

Morticia: Well, not like he used to...

Margaret: This is all so humiliating. Why did I marry you?

Tully Alfford: Because I said yes.

Margaret: You are too precious for words, why I could just... eat you alive!

Morticia: Oh no, Margaret! Too young!

Margaret: [Questioning the absence of a Halloween costume] What are you, darling? Where's your costume?

Wednesday: This is my costume. I'm a homicidal maniac. They look just like everybody else.

Margaret: Everyone keeps asking where he bought his costume.

Gomez: It is a wonderful hat.

Sketch Pinshum: Eclectic...

Margaret: What's that?

Frankie: You plug your box in the wall and it gives you power, stupid.

Ahmal James: Not electric, eclectic... stupid.

Margaret: [about her doll being stolen by Switchblade Sam] You guys don't understand! Baby Louise is a very expensive antique!

Dennis: Nobody robbed your doll, Margaret. Maybe a bear ate it.

Margaret: What?

Joey: Yeah, there's no robbers in our town.

Margaret: You know why men are so lousey when it comes to taking care of babies?

Dennis: They have better things to do.

Margaret: Like what? Play golf and drink beer?

Dennis: No, like hunting, having wars, driving cars, shaving, cleaning fish. Do you know how to do that?

Joey: Me?

Dennis: Margaret.

Joey: Oh, okay.

Margaret: If you didn't have women, you wouldn't have babies, which means you wouldn't have people.

Joey: And if you didn't have men, who'd drive the ladies to the hospital?

Margaret: This things been here our whole life and we never knew it.

Joey: Do you think anybody lived in it?

Dennis: Just squirrels and birds.

Joey: It looks kind of junky.

Dennis: We'll fix it up.

Margaret: Oh, good, I'll be the decorator. We'll put on a special room for the babies and a powder room for when we have company.

Dennis: Forts don't have powder rooms.

Margaret: Oh, really? Where do the soldiers' wives go to freshen up?

Joey: Soldiers don't have wives, stupid.

Margaret: Don't call me stupid, baby rump kisser!

Dennis: The most important thing is they marry the women, then the women can go down and get the baby.

Margaret: The baby is in her stomach.

Dennis: She has to get it installed. Her stomach isn't just filled up with babies.

Margaret: Who installed some?

Dennis: A minister and a doctor.

Margaret: How?

Dennis: 'How'?

Joey: [laughs] She wants to know how?

[Joey continues laughing but stops as Margaret furiosuly glares at him]

Margaret: Tell me, Dennis. How?

Dennis: The bellybutton-it opens up.

Margaret: How come men have them?

Dennis: So they don't look weird in bathing suits.

[Margaret goes disapproved]

Margaret: You guys are the boring ones. There's lots to do.

Dennis: Oh, really? Like what?

Margaret: We could practice singing songs or put on a play or a puppet show.

Joey: We could bury you alive.

Margaret: I could pound your face.

Trevor: [Bill, Margaret and Trevor spot Grant and Starla getting into a car] That's one match I'll never get.

Margaret: [zipping Gina Kid's jacket up] Ain't no mystery. Starla was raised in them shanties off St. Luke, dirt poor. All she ever wanted was to be a lady. Ol' Grant Grant, he's always been made of green.

Trevor: Gold digger, huh?

Bill Pardy: Oh, hell, Margaret! Starla's mother left her, her daddy's a drunk, she was 17 years old. Ol' Grant pulls up in a big ol' Cadillac, house on the hill, and college tuition? What would you do?

Margaret: [Lifting a handkerchief to Gina Kid's nose] Blow.

Bill Pardy: Hell, if he had a 'gina, you'd'a married him, too.

Gina Kid: What's a 'gina'?

Bill Pardy: [after an awkward pause] It's a country. You know, where 'Ginese' people come from. Learn to eavesdrop better.

Jack MacReady: [seeing all the firearms in the room] I didn't know the Ruskies were invadin'.

Margaret: You'd seen this guy, you'da wished they was.

Margaret: Hi, Ted. I'm Margaret. You sound down. Is your New Year's not starting off well?

Ted the Bellhop: No, Margaret. This New Year's Eve is not starting off well! This one is going pretty fucking badly!

Margaret: How come?

Ted the Bellhop: Well, Betty leaves me to run this entire hotel by myself. And first thing, right off the bat, I get fucked by a coven of witches!

Margaret: You got fucked by an oven full of witches?

Ted the Bellhop: A *coven* of *witches*! Well, one witch in particular!

Margaret: Ted, was she an old hag with a mole on her face with hair growing out of it?

[takes a hit from her bong]

Ted the Bellhop: No, no, no, she was very beautiful.

Margaret: [coughs] Ted... what's the problem?

Ted the Bellhop: Well... admittedly, that was the best part of the evening. It was pretty bloody good, actually... but it's still a pretty unnerving way to start off the night!

Margaret: Sounds like a pretty great way to start off the night to me.

Ted the Bellhop: Why don't we just skip over the witches?

Margaret: Skipping the witches...

Ted the Bellhop: Later, in another room, some crazy fucking maniac sticks a gun in my face and forces me to play out some psychosexual drama with his wife.

Margaret: He made you have psycho sex with his wife?

Ted the Bellhop: No, he didn't make me fuck his wife, he thought I'd fucked his wife! He held me at gunpoint with a loaded gun!

Margaret: What kinda gun was it?

Ted the Bellhop: I don't know, I'm not a gun guy. It was big.

Margaret: Was it like Dirty Harry's gun?

Ted the Bellhop: Yeah, sorta like that. Yeah.

Margaret: Did it have a real long barrel or a short barrel?

Ted the Bellhop: What difference does it make?

Margaret: Well, for one thing it's the difference between a .44 Magnum and a Magnum .357.

Ted the Bellhop: Who the fuck cares whether it was a .44 or a .392? It was a big fucking gun, it was loaded, and it was pointed right at my fucking head.

Margaret: [repeated Line] Atta Girl!

Margaret: Why are dead people eating people?

Rudy: Come on down to New Deal used cars...

Margaret: AAAAAAAHHHH!

Rudy: ...come on down and squeeze on us!

Rudy: Margaret, let's take a look under the hood, shall we?

Margaret: WHAT!

Margaret: I can sit there and do nothing as good as anyone.

Margaret: You can't fire me. You don't even know my NAME.

Margaret: Oh. You think I'm your little office thief. Well you got me. You finally got me.

Margaret: The only real challenge with this job, is trying to look busy when there's nothing to do.

Margaret: See that old woman over there? That's me in a few years.

Margaret: Sometimes I feel like I could disappear for weeks, and no one would even notice.

Margaret: Do you ever feel like you're floating? Like you're not connected to anything or anybody?

Iris Chapman: Yeah, sometimes.

Margaret: I feel like I could vanish and no one would even notice. Not for weeks.

Margaret: What happened?

Iris Chapman: I guess, I'm just not like you.

Margaret: Yah know it's sad, isn't it, how people always end up betraying each other? And for what?

Joey: [Susan arrives at their table in a rage] Is this your daughter, Judge?

Richard Nugent: [shocked that he'd insinuate Margaret is old enough to have a teenage daughter] It's her sister!

Joey: Funny, you look enough alike to be mother and daughter!

Margaret: [annoyed] Sisters look alike too.

Agnes Prescott: I hate my sister.

Susan: Have you ever thought of me as a model?

Margaret: I can't honestly say that I have. Why?

Susan: Dickie wants me to pose for him.

Margaret: Oh, isn't that nice... DICKIE?

Margaret: You know I'd die for you, only sometimes it's so hard living with you.

Susan: You're going to make me an old maid.

Margaret: Only until you're 18.

Margaret: Do let us in, Darling. People will think we're Jehovah's Witnesses.

Margaret: Mike, here's the squad list, and I've given copies to the press, like you asked.

Mike: Ah, well done, Margaret, thank you... hey, hang on a minute! There's 28 names here, I only picked 26.

Margaret: Well, that was the list you gave me.

Mike: Tony Hedges, York City? I didn't pick him, love.

Margaret: You must have done, Mike. I wouldn't have put him down, otherwise.

Mike: Never heard of him, have I? And who's this clown? Ron Benson, Plymouth Argyle?

Margaret: Look, Mike, they were on the list of players that you gave me!

Mike: [holding up the cigarette box he wrote the squad list on] Oh, come on, love! Show me where it says "Benson and Hedges" on that.

[watching the Eradicators perform at the prom]

Whitney: [confused] This doesn't sound like a Zillion Kisses.

Margaret: [giggling] Yeah, well, it doesn't look like them either.

Margaret: What's bouf-head doin' here?

Barry Ryan: Be fuckin' nice, alright? You're not a bouf-head, are ya?

Darcy: I'll go wait in the car.

Barry Ryan: See? I told ya he's not a bouf-head.

Jackie: Excuse me, is Mr. Shackleton in?

Margaret: I'm Mr. Shackleton. Mr. Browning thought it sounded more official to have two names on the door.

Margaret: Ya know cuz you'll do anything for someone you love, except love them again.

Margaret: Ya know, there should be a law against 24 year old blondes with big tits named Debbie.

Margaret: Does your mother know what you do for a living?

Tony: No.

Margaret: Well, she wouldn't like it.

Tony: Come on, you sound like my shrink!

Margaret: You're in therapy?

Tony: I'm not ashamed to say I got problems like anybody else.

Margaret: Well, I'm not, trying to insult you. I mean, I've got problems, too. I've been going to a therapist for five years, but you're a hired killer.

Tony: It's a job.

Margaret: No, a job is selling real estate!

[two men are admiring a Rolls Royce parked near the sidewalk]

Young Man at Rolls: Nice Rolls. Beautiful. Incredible.

Young Man at Rolls: You see the line, though?

Young Man at Rolls: It's incredibly beautiful. I wonder what it costs.

Young Man at Rolls: More than we could ever afford.

Young Man at Rolls: Yeah, well, wouldn't it be great to have a car like this? Totally awesome.

Margaret: [looking miserable] It wont make you happy.

Young Man at Rolls: [realizing her presence] What?

Margaret: This car, it won't make you happy.

Young Man at Rolls: [scoffs] I'll look happy, though.

Young Man at Rolls: Yeah.

[gestures towards Margaret]

Young Man at Rolls: Let's help her out. I think we should help her.

Young Man at Rolls: [to Margaret] You all right?

[she doesn't reply]

Young Man at Rolls: You need some help?

[Margaret nods solemnly]

Young Man at Rolls: [reaching for his wallet] Look, I just have 20s.

Young Man at Rolls: Give her some money.

Young Man at Rolls: That's all I have.

[man two snatches the wallet]

Young Man at Rolls: Look, don't,

[Man two hands Margaret the money]

Young Man at Rolls: Aw, man, come on.

[Margaret looks at it, waits a beat, then takes the 20. She smiles sadly, nods, gets in the Rolls Royce and drives away. The men watch, dumbfounded ]

Young Man at Rolls: [teasingly shoves the second man] You owe me 20 bucks!

Henri Boulanger: Do you want to leave your home?

Margaret: The working class has no fatherland.

Margaret: [Henri has just spend a night with Margaret] What about now? You still want to die?

Henri Boulanger: No no, not anymore.

Margaret: Because you met me?

Henri Boulanger: Yes, that's made me change my mind.

Margaret: Only because of my blue eyes?

Henri Boulanger: Are they blue?

Margaret: You are crazy, Henri.

Henri Boulanger: I can't help it.

Victoria Kowelska: Everything will be all right, Margaret. I'll be your witness.

Margaret: My conscience will be my witness, Mrs. Spender.

[Edward and Elinor are baiting Margaret, who is playfully hiding]

Edward Ferrars: I, eh, wish to check the position of the Nile. My sister tells me it is in South America.

Elinor Dashwood: Oh. No. No, um, she's quite wrong, um, for I believe it is in Belgium.

Edward Ferrars: Belgium. Surely not, I think you must be thinking of the Volga.

Margaret: [under the table] The Volga?

Elinor Dashwood: Of course, the Volga, which, as you know, starts in...

Edward Ferrars: Vladivostock, and ends in...

Elinor Dashwood: Wimbledon.

Edward Ferrars: Precisely. Where the coffee beans come from.

Margaret: [coming out] Ugh! The source of the Nile is in Abyssinia.

Margaret: Have you really been to the East Indies, Colonel?

Colonel Brandon: I have.

Margaret: What's it like?

Sir John Middleton: Like? Hot.

Colonel Brandon: [mysteriously] The air is full of spices.

Marianne: I'm taking you for a walk.

Margaret: No, I've been a walk.

Marianne: You need another.

Margaret: It's going to rain.

Marianne: It is NOT going to rain.

Margaret: You ALWAYS say that and then it ALWAYS does.

Marianne: And as for you, you have no right, no right at all, to parade your ignorant assumptions...

Margaret: They're not assumptions, you told me.

Marianne: I told you nothing.

Margaret: They'll meet him when he comes, anyway.

Marianne: Margaret, that is not the point. You do not speak of such things before strangers.

Margaret: But everyone else was.

Marianne: Mrs Jennings is not everyone.

Margaret: I like her. She talks about things. We never talk about things.

Mrs. Dashwood: Hush, please. That is enough, Margaret. If you cannot think of anything appropriate to say, you will please restrict your remarks to the weather

Margaret: He must like you very much.

Marianne: It is not just for me. It is for all of us.

Margaret: [in church] Do you think he'll kneel down when he asks her?

Elinor Dashwood: Shh!

Margaret: [from the pulpit] The fear of Him is the beginning of wisdom.

Margaret: They always kneel down.

Edward Ferrars: I trust I find you all well?

Marianne: Thank you, Edward, we are all very well.

Margaret: We've been enjoying very fine weather.

[Marianne nudges her]

Margaret: Well, we have.

Edward Ferrars: Well, I-I'm glad to hear it. The roads were very... dry.

Margaret: Oh, please don't say anything important.

Marianne: Is there any felicity in the world superior to this?

Margaret: I told you it would rain.

Marianne: There's some blue sky! Let us chase it!

[a large box has arrived at Barton cottage]

Margaret: It's for us!

Mrs. Dashwood: What is it, Thomas?

Thomas: I'm not sure, ma'am, but it's right heavy.

Margaret: Edward promised he'd bring the atlas to Barton for me?

Marianne: Did he? Well, I'll wager he will do so in less than a fortnight.

Margaret: Can you say hi to David?

John: Go fuck yourself, Margaret.

Josephine: [Margaret has tipped the girls beds upside down looking for Crispina's holy medal, she has found it under Bernadette's bed] What have you done to my bed?

Crispina: [Crispina runs up and hugs Margaret] My Saint Christopher, you found it, God bless ya.

Margaret: You dirty thieving bitch!

[Margaret dives at Bernadette and drags her down to the ground by her hair, where they start to wrestle]

Rose: [Rose tries desperately to pull them apart] God, will you stop that? Stop it, for Gods sake!

Margaret: [they finally stop fighting] You're a wicked bitch, you know that? You're a wicked thieving bitch! She had Crispina's Saint Christopher under her bed! The only thing that girl owns in the whole world and you stole it!

Crispina: You found my Saint Christopher. Thank you, thank you!

Margaret: [Margaret grabs Crispina roughly by the arm and points at Bernadette] Don't you understand? She stole it!

Crispina: Yeah, but you found it.

Margaret: Am I the only one who thinks that what she did was completely despicable?

[long silence]

Margaret: Oh, you can all just go to hell!

[first lines]

Margaret: Well, what is it you're wanting to show me? Come on, Kevin, what's the secret?

Margaret: Crispina, why did you want to kill yourself?

Bernadette: Jesus, that's a stupid thing to ask, Elizabeth!

Margaret: I'm just trying to stop her from killing herself.

Bernadette: I know what you're trying to do. I just don't know why you're doing it.

Margaret: Good night, buttface!

Gary: Good night, you filthy whore!

Gary: Are you saying I'm God?

Margaret: Technically, no. If God is a ten, a theoretical ultimate, that-which-no-greater-can-be-imagined, you're more of a nine.

Gary: So what are you?

Margaret: Humans are sevens. Monkeys are sixes.

Gary: What are the eights?

Margaret: Koalas. They're telepathic. Plus, they control the weather.

Margaret: What's important is that you, you're the big cheese. El Supremo. You could destroy the world with a single thought.

Margaret: Yes, he totaled a car, but it was an environmentally friendly car. Why doesn't that get reported?

Margaret: I'm a fan of yours, you know. Your number one fan. But if you fuck this up, I'll smash your ankles with a sledgehammer!

Margaret: I'll be coming by twice a day to check up on you. I should be the only person coming by. No pals, no buddies, no heroin dealers.

Gary: I don't do heroin.

Margaret: Yeah, crack is classy. Hmmm. But I'm not buying you porn. There's pay-per-view or cable.

Gary: [sarcastically] Great, because I really wasn't concerned about my career, family, or future. I just wanted to jerk off.

Margaret: I know who you are.

Sarah: Really.

Margaret: I know what you are. If you come near him again...

Sarah: [interrupting her] You'll what? What are you going to do about it? Hmmm? Sorry, what's he calling you?

Margaret: Margaret.

Sarah: I like that. Margaret. Classic.

Margaret: Why don't you just leave him alone?

Sarah: Alone? He can't be left alone - he's an actor. If no one's watching him, he doesn't really exist. And for the record, I'm not the one deceiving him. He'll figure it out eventually, and when he does who do you think he's going to blame?

Margaret: It's incredible.

Gary: Whenever I see them, it's like... damn...

Margaret: I was born at the wrong time.

Margaret: You're not going to understand this yet, but we've known each other for like twenty-five years. One day when I was twelve, you called me out of the blue and we've been talking ever since.

Gary: Talking?

Margaret: On the phone, usually.

Gary: This is all a dream?

Margaret: No.

Gary: I'm in a coma?

Margaret: No.

Gary: I'm dead? This is hell or purgatorium or something?

Margaret: Okay, purgatorium is where Romans vomited, but no, this is as real as anything can be.

Gary: What does that mean?

Margaret: Everything is what it is. You're not who you think you are.

Margaret: Okay, just so it's said, this house IS flammable.

Gary: I didn't mean to burn down my house.

Margaret: Yeah, and I didn't mean to eat my way into a 10-year shame spiral, but I did. And it's healthier to acknowledge it.

Doris: Whispering to her friend, Margaret in class and stealing glances at Mister.Saunders who Margaret has a crush on."I reckon those specs makes him look like Gregory.Peck.Don't you Marge?"

Margaret: Yeah, he does a bit, he looks real posh with them on.

Sara: How long do you want to stay here?

Margaret: I don't know. Until your baby's born.

Sara: I'm not going back to the basement.

Margaret: That's our home.

Sara: No it's not. We're refugees, remember? Internally displaced persons.

Margaret: Sara, the world is not like your books and magazines. It's not like the stories I tell you, or Samuel's stories. You have to think about your safefy.

Sara: If you're right then we're just waiting to die.

Samuel: Uh-uh, one question a piece. My turn. That is how you two do this, correct? Each person in the room gets to ask one question, until everyone's motives are out in the open. Aren't you curious how I knew that?

Margaret: Is that your question?

Samuel: Is that yours?

Sara: How did you know that?

Torgo: There is nothing to fear, madam. The Master likes you. Nothing will happen to you. He likes you.

Margaret: Likes me? I thought you said he was dead?

Torgo: Dead? No, madam. Not dead the way you know it. He is with us always. Not dead the way you know it. He is with us always.

Michael: Hey, Torgo, where's the phone? Yes, Alexander Graham Bell, you know, telephone?

Torgo: There is none, sir. The Master doesn't approve of such devices.

Margaret: Then... then where is the nearest phone?

Torgo: The nearest phone is at the crossroads. That's ten miles.

Margaret: Ten miles? Might as well be ten THOUSAND miles!

Michael: [getting mad] Easy, honey! It won't help to get mad!

Margaret: Mike, I don't like this.

Mike: Nothing to worry about. It's only your imagination.

[first lines]

Margaret: We're almost there, honey. Just a little while longer and your vacation starts.

Debbie: I'm getting cold, mother, and hungry!

[repeated line]

Margaret: Mike, I'm scared.

Michael: We should be pretty close right now. The agent said that it was about twelve miles from highway ten and that was highway ten back there.

Margaret: But you know, we should have asked for better directions at the last gas station!

Michael: Listen, I've never gotten us lost before!

Michael: Now, look, the sign pointed this way!

Margaret: Mike, let's go back to the crossroads and ask those kids we saw!

Michael: Okay! Okay, but I know we can't be wrong! Look, the sign pointed this way!

Margaret: [to Dr. Decker over breakfast] What are you having with your poached egg? Murder?

Margaret: I've made my decision a long time ago. And now you make yours.

Margaret: You wanted to know where I'm from? I'm from Connecticut, Mayflower stock. I was taught that my prince would come, and he would be a lawyer, and I would have his children. And on the weekends we would barbecue. And all the other princes and their princesses would come, and they would say, "Delicious, delicious." Oh, how boring.

[She turns off the light and begins applying fluorescent makeup]

Margaret: So I was taught that I should come to New York, become an independent woman. And my prince would come, and he would be an agent, and he would get me a role, and I would make my living waiting on tables. I would wait - till thirty, till forty, till fifty. And I was taught that to be an actress, one should be fashionable, and to be fashionable is to be androgynous. And I am androgynous not less than David Bowie himself. And they call me beautiful, and I kill with my cunt. Isn't it fashionable? Come on, who's next? I'll take lessons. How to get into show business: be nice to your professor. Be nice to your agent. Be nice to your audience, be nice. How to be a woman: want them when I want you. How to be free and equal: fuck women instead of men, and you'll discover a whole kingdom of freedom. Men won't step on you anymore, women will. So come on, who's next? Who wants to teach me? Come on, teach me. Are you afraid? You're right, because they're all dead. All my teachers.

Margaret: I kill with my cunt.

Margaret: Whether or not I like someone doesn't depend on what kind of genitals they have.

Jimmy: And this chicken is the Miss America of the 80s?

Adrian: No, Jimmy. You are.

[singing]

Adrian: Here he is, Miss America...

Designer: No. I think Margaret is Miss America.

Photographer: I think it's Jimmy.

Jack: You just say that because you're gay

Designer's Assistant: Oh, he's not gay all the time!

Photographer: I seriously think Jimmy is the new Miss America. He has all the mannerisms of a sex symbol.

Jack: That's what we should call this! Make it a series. "The two Miss Americas."

Photographer: Great idea! And we could end it with the two of them fucking!

Margaret: He can't fuck.

Jimmy: I can too fuck. I just can't fuck you.

Margaret: That's the only thing I care about, my career. What do you think I'm doing right now? I'm getting ready to shoot with a professional photographer who I met at the club, who's gonna come here...

Owen: Wally wants to go to bed with you.

Margaret: Nobody - nobody fucks at the club, everybody's gay! It's you that thinks about fucking all the time.

Owen: Your vocabulary is punctuated by two words: "shit" and "fuck."

Margaret: You just wanna get laid. You'll say anything to get laid. Just like everyone else from California. What do you have, a cock for a brain, baby? Don't fuck with me, you asshole. Why don't you go fuck your father if he loves you so much?

Owen: All your costumes are just participation in some kind of phoney theater. I'm only telling you this for your own good. It's a freak show.

Margaret: Oh, are you trying to say that your blue jeans weren't theater?

Owen: It's not the same thing.

Margaret: So your professor wore a three-piece suit and blamed you for your jeans. And your jeans were "too much." And he didn't understand that his suit was also a costume. You thought your jeans stood for love, freedom and sexual equality; we at least know that we're in costume.

Margaret: Let's go dancing! What else is there to do?

Margaret: [to the aliens] Hey, you! Hey, you! What's with these glass arrows, Indian? I can't have all these bodies. Corpses. All these corpses here. All these dead people. Please, no more bodies.

[Paul's body disappears]

[first lines]

Georgie Wits: Mrs. Margaret! Look at that pretty brooch.

Margaret: Aren't you so kind. You have yourself a lovely day, Mr. Georgie Wits.