Saturday, April 21, 2012

Dialogue bytes and minimalist art.


Scott: You mother left us, and we've healed --
Emma: Healed, dad? Healed?
Scott: Yes, healed, Emma. We've recovered. How can you say there is no God when you recover from something so devastating?
Emma: That's oxymoronic.

Samuel [off]: Are you there?
Elizabeth: No.
Samuel [off]: But I can hear you, Liz.
Elizabeth: No, you can't.
Samuel [off]: Seriously, Elizabeth? What are you doing?
Elizabeth: Ignoring the doorbell.


Matthew: I'm great, thanks for asking.
Emily: I didn't.
Matthew: But you're supposed to, you know.
Emily: No one ever said you were supposed to.
Matthew: Well, just because nobody ever said that oranges are the best fruit doesn't mean they aren't.
Emily: People say that oranges are the best fruits all the time, but that doesn't mean they are. It's the fact that you have to ask how someone is doing even if you don't care that no one ever said.
Matthew: You don't care how I'm doing?
Emily: Stop assuming I'm saying things that I never said. You should get your hearing checked or something maybe.


Jackson: Isn't that what phonebooks are for?


Michael: And you're just helpless, you know? It doesn't matter what you do, you're just helpless, and there are people dying around you, and what can you do? So stop complaining. You don't understand what --
Annie: I don't understand?! I don't understand?! No, no, Michael, you're the one who doesn't understand. You got to fight. They ship you off an your mother cries and your girlfriend says she'll write you every single day, twice, and sometimes she forgets, and that's sad for you, but you are never helpless so you have nothing to complain about, and there are things worse than death --
Michael: Like you'd know.
Annie: -- and it's called helplessness, real, utter helplessness, and that is worse than death.
Michael: You will never understand war, Annie.
Annie: And you will never understand what it feels like to become a number. [She exits SL, but after a count of three, the door opens again:] Oh, and you'll never understand minimalist art, either.

What? Everyone likes a good boy band.
All my love,
Addy

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