Monroe Quotes in Congo (1995)

Monroe: When the moon is like that, every monkey for 200 miles thinks he's Elvis Presley.

Monroe: So why'd you quit the CIA?

Dr. Karen Ross: I never worked for the CIA.

Monroe: Of course you didn't. But if you HAD worked for the CIA, why would you quit?

Dr. Karen Ross: 'Cause they're a loveless bunch of sons of bitches.

Monroe: And you're not?

Dr. Karen Ross: And I'm not.

Monroe: Glad to hear it.

Monroe: I'm your great white hunter for this trip, though I happen to be black.

Monroe: And this is your cover?

Dr. Karen Ross: Yes

Dr. Peter Elliot: I'm nobody's cover. Cover for what?

Monroe: ...find yourself in the middle of something.

Dr. Peter Elliot: Cover for what?

Monroe: I don't know and she won't tell you. But the kind of money her company's throwing around... they don't spend that on any gorilla. Relax. You're in better hands than you *should* be.

Monroe: They just blew up the president's car.

Eddie: That was the president's car? Did they get him?

Monroe: That's the bad news: no, they didn't.

Monroe: Eddie! What happened to your head?

Eddie: Customs guy, whacked me in the head with a can of peanut oil for stamping visas. I'm never goin back to that country, man. Those people have permanently wigged out!

Dr. Peter Elliot: You're some kind of criminal, aren't you?

Monroe: Aren't we all?

Dr. Peter Elliot: No. I'm not a criminal, I'm a scientist.

Monroe: Scientist? I run a few guns. You sons of bitches ruin the world.

[last lines]

Monroe: [in hot air balloon] There's a wind.

Dr. Peter Elliot: I hope it blows us some place good.

Dr. Karen Ross: Me too.

Monroe: Quite frankly, the twentieth century sucks. Maybe the twenty-first will be better.

Monroe: The ghost tribe has several levels of "dead." Someone's not dead until they're completely "dead."

Monroe: That region of the Congo's uninhabited.

Dr. Karen Ross: Well, something inhabits it.

Dr. Peter Elliot: What exactly did you see on that tape?

Dr. Karen Ross: A camp destroyed. People dead. A grey gorilla...

Dr. Peter Elliot: There's no such thing as a grey gorilla.

Dr. Karen Ross: Well, I saw one.

Dr. Peter Elliot: It's hard to believe at this late date...

Monroe: Why are you going in there?

Dr. Karen Ross: Two men are unaccounted for: Geoffrey Weams, and Charles Travis, my fiance... My FORMER fiance.

Monroe: Your former?

Dr. Peter Elliot: Well, we better get to him then.

Dr. Peter Elliot: [as everyone on the plane prepares to jump] Why are they putting on parachutes?

Dr. Karen Ross: Figure it out!

Dr. Peter Elliot: [the crew members begin jumping out of the plane. Monroe hands Peter a parachure] This isn't going to work!

Monroe: Oh, yes, it is. I'll take Amy.

Dr. Peter Elliot: She might get hurt. I can't risk it!

Monroe: Do you know how to fly this plane?

Dr. Peter Elliot: No.

Monroe: [nods toward the cockpit, where no one is at the controls] Well, the pilot and co-pilot are already gone, so what are you going to do?

Monroe: When these little African countries get into a dispute, they tend to just murder everybody. They live for the opportunity to settle scores... and they have a lot of scores to settle.

Herkermer Homolka: You've got to get me out of here!

Monroe: Take a number.

Monroe: Learn to articulate, you juvenile delinquent!

Monroe: I ain't askin', I'm *tellin'*.

[Ennis enters the grocery store where Alma works]

Ennis Del Mar: Is Alma here?

Monroe: Uh, yeah, she's in the condiments aisle.

Ennis Del Mar: The what?

Monroe: Uh - ketchup.

[points]

Ennis Del Mar: Thanks.

Minnie: I hate you!

Monroe: [softly] Yeah, well, I like you.

Minnie: Don't laugh at me!

[playfully hitting him]

Monroe: Or what?

[laughing with her]

Minnie: OR I'M GONNA TELL MY MOTHER!

Monroe: [pauses, stunned] Get dressed.

Minnie: What? You can't take it?

Monroe: [trying to contain his anger] Get *dressed*.

Minnie: No!

Monroe: [exploding] YOU RUINED IT, MINNIE! YOU'RE A FUCKING CHILD! I SHOULD TELL YOUR MOTHER! YOU WANT THAT? YOU'RE MANIPULATING ME! WELL I'M NOT HAVING IT!

Minnie: [starts to cry, crouches to the floor, naked]

Kathleen: How old are you?

Monroe: I've lost track, about thirty-five I think.

Monroe: I don't think I have more brains than a writer, I just think that his brains belong to me