Marta Quotes in Harsh Times (2005)

Marta: No, please don't go. Time freezes when you're gone.

Maria: I'd like to thank each and every one of you for the precious gift you left in my pocket today.

Captain von Trapp: Um, what gift?

Maria: It's meant to be a secret, Captain, between the children and me.

Captain von Trapp: Uh-huh. Then I suggest that you keep it, and let us eat.

Maria: Knowing how nervous I must have been, a stranger in a new household, knowing how important it was for me to feel accepted. It was so kind and thoughtful of you to make my first moments here so warm and happy and... pleasant.

[All the while, the children look guilty. Marta starts to cry]

Captain von Trapp: What is the matter, Marta?

Marta: Nothing.

[Louisa, Brigitta and Gretl join in, while Liesl, Friedrich and Kurt continue to look guilty]

Captain von Trapp: Uh, Fräulein... is it to be at every meal, or merely at dinnertime, that you, uh, intend leading us all through this rare and wonderful new world of... indigestion?

Maria: Oh, they're all right, Captain. They're just happy.

[All of the girls, except Liesl, continue to cry out of guilt]

Marta: I'm Marta, and I'm going to be seven on Tuesday, and I'd like a pink parasol.

Maria: Well, pink's my favorite color, too.

Marta: The least they could have done is to let us say hello.

Marta: Why doesn't father turn the motor on?

Kurt: [agitated] Because he doesn't want anybody to hear us!

Captain von Trapp: Shh!

Louisa von Trapp: What will Frau Schmidt and Franz said when they discover we're gone?

Captain von Trapp: They'll be able to answer truthfully they didn't know anything about it if anyone asks them.

Louisa von Trapp: Will we be coming back here?

Captain von Trapp: Someday, Liesl. I do hope someday.

Gretl: Are Father and Uncle Max going to push the car all the way to Switzerland?

Maria: Shh!

Marta: Why don't we ever get to see the baroness?

Kurt: Why would she want to see you?

Marta: Can we really keep the puppet show, Uncle Max?

Max: Of course. Why else do you think I had Professor Cohen send the bill to your father?

[improvising an educational song]

Dewey Finn: Math is a wonderful thing. Math is a really cool thing. So get off your ath, let's do some math. Math, math, math, math, math. Three minus four is?

Summer Hathaway: Negative one.

Dewey Finn: That's right. And six times a billion is?

Marco: Six billion?

Dewey Finn: Nailed it. And fifty-four is forty-five more than what is the answer, Marta?

Marta: Nine.

Dewey Finn: No, it's eight.

Marta: ...No, it's nine.

Dewey Finn: ...Yes, I was testing you... it's nine. And that's a magic number.

Dewey Finn: Look, the first thing you do when you start a band is talk about your influences. That's how you figure out what kind of band you want to be. So who do you like? Blondie?

Marta: Christina Aguilera.

Dewey Finn: Who? No. Come on. What? You, Shortstop.

Leonard: Puff Daddy.

Dewey Finn: Wrong. Billy?

Billy: Liza Minnelli?

[the crowd is chanting: School of Rock! School of Rock!]

Marta: What is that?

Dewey Finn: [Awed] It's an encore. They want us to go play another song! It's good! Go, you guys!

[the kids all shriek and run for the stage]

Dewey Finn: Wait, no, no, just the band! Okay. Everybody, go!

Dewey Finn: [singing their song in the Battle of the Bands] May I have the attention of the class: Today's ASSignment...

Alicia, Marta, Tomika: ...kick some ass!

Harry Pendel: I never lied to you, Marta, you know that. I didn't tell you everything, but what I told you was true. There's only so many people you can do that to. Tell the truth. Other people are different. They need to be...

Marta: ...tailored.

Harry Pendel: ...helped.

Marta: I don't go to bed with just anyone anymore. I have to be attracted to them sexually.

Marta: You seem very intelligent for an American.

Fred: Well, I'm not.

Marta: I think there is something fascist about a boy who immediately talks of marrying a woman he likes.

Fred: I don't think Ted is a fascist of the marrying kind.

Fred: Tonight while I was shaving - I always shave against the direction of the beard because I understood you got a closer shave that way - I started thinking about this razor commercial on TV which shows the hair follicles like this, going this way. The first of the twin blades cuts them here, then the hair snaps back, and the second blade catches them down here, giving you a closer, cleaner, possibly smoother shave, that we know. But what struck me was if the hair follicles are going in this direction and the razor is too, then they're shaving in the direction of the beard, not against it, which would mean that I've been shaving the wrong way all my life. I mean, maybe that's not so, maybe I misremembered the ad, but the point is, I could have shaved the wrong way all my life and never have known it. And then I could have taught my son to shave the wrong way without him ever knowing it either.

Marta: You have a son?

Fred: No... But I might someday. And then maybe I'll teach him to shave the wrong way.

Marta: I think maybe my English is not so good.

Marta: Ramon is very persuasive, and he painted a terrible picture of what it would be like for her to live the rest of her life in America, with all of its crime, consumerism, and vulgarity. All those loud, badly dressed, fat people watching their eighty channels of television and visiting shopping malls. The plastic throw-everything-away society with its notorious violence and racism. And finally, the total lack of culture.

Marta: [pointing to tombstones in the cemetery] Look, this guy, Solc, he was with that cow over there, Bubanovic, while she was married to her second husband, Winter. These bones here cheated on those bones... So what?

Marta: [seeing a dead person in a bed surrounded by people eating] Look!

Antonio Badalamenti: It's nothing. A man died. It's an old custom. His friends are throwing a party for him.

Antonio Badalamenti: [to one of the mourners with a plate of food] Cumbari. How'd he die?

Man at wake: [matter-of-factly] Two bullets.

Antonio Badalamenti: [with urgency to the driver] Right. Let's go!

Marta: Your mother hasn't said a word to me since we arrived. She stares at me as if I was some kind of exotic animal.

Antonio Badalamenti: [looking ahead on the ferry] Look over there!

[enthusiastically]

Antonio Badalamenti: Sicily! Island of the sun and Cyclops! The inspiration to all the poets!

[noticing his wife's lack of enthusiasm]

Antonio Badalamenti: What's the matter, Marta?

Marta: [wistfully] Nothing. I was just watching Italy fade away.

Antonio Badalamenti: [At lunch table, asking about Rosalia's engagement] To whom?

Nino's father: Domenico Licasi... for more than two years.

Antonio Badalamenti: I didn't know.

Nino's father: It's not official.

Antonio Badalamenti: What does he do?

Nino's father: He sits.

Marta: [Unfamiliar with the term "sit"] Office worker?

Antonio Badalamenti: Unemployed. That's how we put it here.

Nino's father: If they marry, I'll have another mouth to feed.

Rosalia: [In protest] Domenico wouldn't accept! He's a worker!... but unlucky.

Antonio Badalamenti: [At the lunch table, asking about old acquaintances] How's Ignacio?

Nino's father: He left.

Antonio Badalamenti: And Ciccio?

Nino's father: Emigrated.

Antonio Badalamenti: And Alfio?

Nino's father: [Answers in local dialect] "in jail"

Antonio Badalamenti: In jail?

Nino's father: Crime of honor.

Antonio Badalamenti: And Filo?

Antonio Badalamenti: [Everybody at table suddenly becomes uncomfortably silent] Dead?

Nino's father: Went astray

Marta: [Turning to Uncle Turi] What's that mean?

Uncle Turi: Betrayed his friends.

Nino's father: Goes around on a motorbike, agitating among the farm laborers.

Antonio Badalamenti: And Tota? And Nicola? And Jano?

Nino's father: All sitting. You were lucky, even though you deserved it. Don't forget that.

Antonio Badalamenti: I won't... And after lunch, I'm going to see Don Vincenzo. I've a favor to do for an important businessman - an American from Calamo.

Marta: If you play with fire, you're going to get burned.

[last lines]

Valentin Arregui: I love you so much. That's the one thing I never said to you, because I was afraid of losing you forever.

Marta: That can never happen now. This dream is short, but this dream is happy.

Marta: That's enough. Let's stop playing Negroes.

Anita: Why hasn't your father come back?

Marta: He has his farm and horses in Kenya. He raises flowers. But I'm afraid something's going to happen. They've all got their revolvers. All of them, again.

Vittoria: All who? The white or the colored?

Marta: The six million Negroes want to throw out the 60,000 whites. We're lucky they're still in trees and have barely lost their tails or they'd have already thrown us out.

Anita: About time, too.

Marta: I'll just say one thing. There are about ten leaders who've studied at Oxford. The others are all monkeys - six million monkeys.

Vittoria: But if you like it there, they must be charming monkeys.

Marta: I don't know how you can live with all theses animals.

Juan: I like animals. They are real. They eat when they are hungry. They sleep when they are tired and they fuck when they are in heat. You never been in heat, aunt!

Marta: It's enough.

Henry: Why don't you become a fashion photographer? Or sports?

Marta: I want my Capa.

Henry: Robert Capa is overrated.

Marta: Hemingway, too, isn't he? Everybody is overrated, but not you.

Henry: I didn't say that.

Marta: You've had your glory moments. Now leave room for us.

Teresa: [knock on the door] Come in.

Carmen: Teresa? These are the new journalists. Marco Navas. He works for a Portuguese newspaper. And these two are the oneswith the car that broke down.

Marta: No, it didn't break down. It was bombed.

Carmen: Marta Vonier, photographer from Le Figaro. And Henry Howell, from the New York Herald Tribune. American.

Teresa: I studied your writing at college. I... I think I've read it all. Short. Sharp. Very inspiring. Your style has evolved over time, hasn't it?

Henry: Well, I'm still a growing boy.

Teresa: I just read this article of yours about Bergara. You write of a battle at a castle where our soldiers were firing from the battlements. I think it was a pretty good piece. It's quite interesting because there are no castles in Bergara. Why? Why did you write it? Is it even about the truth anymore?

Henry: Well, maybe I got the name of the town wrong. There's so many.

Teresa: Don't play with us. For you, it's a story. But for us, it's life and death.

Vasyl: Obey the rules, Mr. Howell. They're simple enough even for you.

Henry: I'm sorry. You are?