Richard: Albert and me are having some trouble. Get it - little fairy?
出自電影《孤島驚魂》 的經典對白。
更多孤島驚魂的經典對白
Richard: Albert and me are having some trouble. Get it - little fairy?
Teresa: Don't put your feet in my face like that.
Richard: One doesn't choose the time one gets into trouble.
Richard: They're all whores! I don't give a damn for you or your goddamn love life.
Richard: You lunkhead! Come on down. I won't eat ya!
Richard: Albert and me are having some trouble. Get it - little fairy?
Teresa: Don't put your feet in my face like that.
Richard: One doesn't choose the time one gets into trouble.
Richard: They're all whores! I don't give a damn for you or your goddamn love life.
Richard: You lunkhead! Come on down. I won't eat ya!
Nicholas: That Froggy bitch pulled my ear off! Philip Fairweather: Here, here, here! Who taught you to speak like that? Nicholas: Mum did! Philip Fairweather: That'll teach you to tell lies.
Teresa: You make me sick! If you were a man, you would not let this big creep insult me. George: Nobody's insulting you, sweetie pie.
George: What's the name of this rock pile? Richard: Rob Roy. Lindisfarne Island, Northumberland. George: What? Speak up! Richard: Rob Roy! Lindisfarne Island! Northumberland!
Albie: There must be some booze in this dump. I'd like a drink. Richard: Albie, lie down! You got a belly full of holes, and you want a drink? Lie down! Albie: You've got a head full of holes, and you still want to argue. Let go of me, you half-wit! I want a drink, I tell you!
Albie: That's it. Ah! I lost it. Richard: What have you lost? Albie: The Little Bear. I can't find it anymore.
Richard: Cheers, old chap. George: I never drink. Richard: You ain't refusing to have a drink with Dickie, are you? George: I can't drink alcohol. It makes me sick. Especially this time in the morning. Richard: Either you're a pal or you ain't. Time don't make no difference with pals. Bottoms up.
George: Nag, nag! Nagging bitch! That's all you are. All you care about is your gossip. Your nag, nag, chitter-chatter - - That's your only aim in life. Marion Fairweather: Poor George. Poor George. It was bound to end like this. He's gone completely off his rocker because of that tart. George: Say that again. Marion Fairweather: Tart! She's a tart! One has only to look at you to see that she'd go to bed with anything in trousers. George: The tart, as you call her, happens to be my wife.
Philip Fairweather: I wouldn't put up with that fellow's language. George: Yes, I know, but good gardeners are awfully difficult to come by, you know.
