別讓住何人因為你的出身背景而限制你的成就。
出自電影《五星級大鼠》 的經典對白。
更多五星級大鼠的經典對白
Gusteau: If you focus on what you left behind you will never see what lies ahead!
Gusteau: You must be imaginative, strong-hearted. You must try things that may not work, and you must not let anyone define your limits because of where you come from. Your only limit is your soul. What I say is true - anyone can cook... but only the fearless can be great.
Remy: If you are what you eat, then I only want to eat the good stuff.
Colette: I hate to be rude, but we're French!
別被自己的過去侷限，你唯一的限制只有你的靈魂。
我總是相信勤奮與努力加一點點幸運就能換來成功，我的天份被發現，只是時間問題。
別讓住何人因為你的出身背景而限制你的成就。
Gusteau: If you focus on what you left behind you will never see what lies ahead!
Colette: What is this? Keep - your station - clear! When the meal rush comes, what will happen? Messy stations slow things down. Food doesn't go, orders pile up, disaster! I'll make this easier to remember: keep your station clear, or I WILL KILL YOU!
Remy: If you are what you eat, then I only want to eat the good stuff.
Linguini: That's strangely involuntareeee!
Colette: What is this? Keep - your station - clear! When the meal rush comes, what will happen? Messy stations slow things down. Food doesn't go, orders pile up, disaster! I'll make this easier to remember: keep your station clear, or I WILL KILL YOU!
Remy: If you are what you eat, then I only want to eat the good stuff.
Django: Food is fuel. You get picky about what you put in the tank, your engine is gonna die. Now shut up and eat your garbage.
Linguini: That's strangely involuntareeee!
Mustafa: Do you know what you'd like this evening, sir? Anton Ego: Yes, I think I do. After reading a lot of overheated puffery about your new cook, you know what I'm craving? A little perspective. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that? Mustafa: With what, sir? Anton Ego: Perspective. Fresh out, I take it? Mustafa: I am, uh... Anton Ego: Very well. Since you're all out of perspective and no one else seems to have it in this BLOODY TOWN, I'll make you a deal. You provide the food, I'll provide the perspective, which would go nicely with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947. Mustafa: I'm afraid... your dinner selection? Anton Ego: Tell your chef Linguini that I want whatever he dares to serve me. Tell him to hit me with his best SHOT.
Anton Ego: You are Monsieur Linguini? Linguini: Uh, hello. Anton Ego: Pardon me for interrupting your premature celebration, but I thought it only fair to give you a sporting chance as you are new to this game. Linguini: Uh... game? Anton Ego: Yes, and you've been playing without an opponent, which is, as you may have guessed... against the rules. Linguini: You're... Anton Ego. Anton Ego: You're slow for someone in the fast lane. Linguini: And you're... thin, for someone who likes food. Anton Ego: I don't *like* food; I LOVE it. If I don't love it, I don't *swallow*. Anton Ego: I will return tomorrow night with high expectations. Pray you don't disappoint me.
Colette: Horst has done time. Linguini: What for? Colette: No one know for sure. He changes the story every time you ask him. Horst: I defrauded a major corporation. Horst: I robbed the second-largest bank in France using only a ball-point pen. Horst: I created a hole in the ozone over Avignon. Horst: I killed a man... with *this* thumb!
Remy: Creamy, salty-sweet, an oaky nuttiness... You detect that? Emile: Oh, I'm detecting nuttiness...
Skinner: You know something about rats, you know you do! Linguini: You know who know, do, whacka-do. Ratta-tatta - Hey, why do they call it that? Skinner: What? Linguini: Ratatouille. It's like a stew, right? Why do they call it that? If you're gonna name a food, you should give it a name that sounds delicious. Ratatouille doesn't sound delicious. It sounds like "rat" and "patootie." Rat patootie! Which does not sound delicious. Skinner: Regrettably, we are all... out... of wine.
Skinner: Look at him out there, pretending to be an idiot! He's toying with my mind like a cat with a ball... of something! Lawyer: String? Skinner: Yes! Playing dumb, taunting me with that RAT! Lawyer: Rat? Skinner: Yes! He's consorting with it, deliberately trying to make me think it's important! Lawyer: The... rat? Skinner: EXACTLY! Lawyer: Is the rat important? Skinner: Of course not! He just wants me to THINK that it is! O-ho, I see the theatricality of it! A rat appears on the boy's first night, I order him to kill it, and now he wants me to see it everywhere! Skinner: Ooooh! It's here! No it isn't it's here! Am I seeing things, am I crazy, is there a phantom rat or is there not, but oh, no! I refuse to be sucked into his little game... of... Lawyer: Should I be concerned about this? About you?
Linguini: Bonjour, ma chérie. Join us. We were just talking about my inspiration. Colette: Yes, he calls it his tiny chef. Linguini: Not that, dearest, I meant you.
Gusteau: So, we have given up. Remy: Why do you say that? Gusteau: We are in a cage, inside a car trunk, awaiting a future in frozen food products. Remy: No, I'm the one in a cage. I've given up. You... are free. Gusteau: I am only as free as you imagine me to be. As you are. Remy: Oh, please. I'm sick of pretending. I pretend to be a rat for my father, I pretend to be a *human* for Linguini. I pretend you *exist* so I have someone to talk to! You only tell me stuff I already know! I know who I am! Why do I need you to tell me? Why do I need to pretend? Gusteau: But you don't Remy. You never did.
Linguini: When I added that extra ingredient instead of following the recipe like you said, that wasn't me... either. Colette: What do you mean? Linguini: I mean, *I* wouldn't have done that. I would've followed the recipe, I would've followed your advice, I would've followed your advice to the ends of the Earth because I love you... r advice. But... Remy: Don't do it... Linguini: I have a secret. It's sort of disturbing. I have a ra... I have a raaaaa... Colette: You have a... rash? Linguini: No no no. I have this-this tiny, uh, little... little... Linguini: a tiny chef who tells me what to do.
Gusteau: What are you doing? Remy: I'm hungry! I don't know where I am and I don't know when I'll find food again... Gusteau: Remy, you are better than that. You are a cook! A cook makes! A thief takes. You are not a thief. Remy: But I *am* hungry. Gusteau: Food will come, Remy. Food always comes to those who love to cook.
Emile: Why are you walking like that? Remy: I don't want to constantly have to wash my paws. Did you ever think about how we walk on the same paws that we handle food with? You ever think about what we put into our mouths? Emile: All the time. Remy: Ugh, when I eat, I don't want to taste everywhere my paws have been. Emile: Well, go ahead. But if dad sees you walking like that, he's not gonna like it.
Remy: What are you eating? Emile: I don't really know. I think it was some sort of wrapper once. Remy: What? No! You're in Paris now, baby! My town! No brother of mine eats rejecta-menta in my town!
Mustafa: Someone has asked what is new! Horst: New? Mustafa: Yes! What do I tell them? Horst: Well, what *did* you tell them? Mustafa: I told them I would ask! Skinner: What are you blathering about? Horst: Customers are asking what is new! Mustafa: What should I tell them? Skinner: What *did* you tell them? Mustafa: I TOLD THEM I WOULD ASK! Skinner: This is simple. Just pull out an old Gusteau recipe, something we haven't made in a while... Mustafa: They know about the old stuff. They like Linguini's soup. Skinner: They are asking for food from LINGUINI?
Django: Now don't you feel better, Remy? Eh? You've helped a noble cause. Remy: Noble? We, we're thieves, Dad, and what we're stealing is - let's face it - garbage! Django: It isn't stealing if no one wants it. Remy: If no one wants it, why are we *stealing* it? Remy: Let's just say we have different points of view.
Gusteau: What do I always say? Anyone can cook! Remy: Well, yeah, anyone *can*, that doesn't mean that anyone *should*.
Lawyer: Well, the will stipulates that if after two years from the date of death, no heir appears, Gusteau's business will pass on to his sous-chef, you. Skinner: I know what the will stipulates! What I want to know, is if this letter - if this *boy* changes anything! Lawyer: There's not much resemblance. Skinner: There's NO resemblance at all! He's not Gusteau's son, Gusteau had no children! And what of the timing of all this? The deadline in the will expires in less than a month! Suddenly some boy arrives with a letter from his recently deceased mother claiming Gusteau is his father? Highly suspect! Lawyer: ... This was Gusteau's? Skinner: Yes. Lawyer: May I? Skinner: Of course, of course. Lawyer: But, the boy does not know? Skinner: She claims she never told him, or Gusteau, and asks that I not tell! Lawyer: Why you? What does she want? Skinner: A job, for the boy. Lawyer: Only a job? Well, then this is easy. If he works here, you can keep an eye on him while I do a little digging, find out how much of this is real. I'll need you to collect some DNA samples from the boy, hair maybe... Skinner: Mark my words, the whole thing is *highly* suspect. He knows... something. Lawyer: Relax, he's a garbage boy. I think you can handle him.
Remy: Flour, eggs, sugar... vanilla bean... Oh, small twist of lemon. Emile: Whoa! You can smell all that? You have a gift! Remy: This is Emile, my brother. He's easily impressed. Django: So you can smell ingredients. So what? Remy: This is my dad. He's never impressed.
Larousse: Hey, boss, look who it is! Alfredo Linguini! Renata's little boy! All grown up, eh? You remember Renata. Gusteau's old flame? Skinner: Ah, yes. How are you, uh... Larousse: Linguini. Skinner: Yes, Linguini, so nice of you to visit. How is, uh...? Linguini: My mother? Skinner: Yes... Larousse: Renata. Skinner: Yes, Renata. How is she? Linguini: Good... well, not... good... She's been better. She's, uh... she... Horst: She died. Skinner: Oh, uh, I'm sorry. Linguini: Well, don't be. She believed in Heaven, so she's covered... you know, afterlife-wise? Uh... Skinner: What is this? Linguini: She left it for you. I think she hoped it would help... me. You know, get a job... Here?
Skinner: Surely you don't expect me to believe this is your first time cooking? Linguini: It's not. Skinner: I KNEW IT! Linguini: It's my... second, third, fourth, fifth time. Monday was my first time. But I've taken out the garbage lots of times before that... Skinner: Yes, yes, yes, have some more wine.
Linguini: What should I do now? Skinner: Kill it! Linguini: Now? Skinner: No, not in the kitchen! Are you mad?
Linguini: This is not gonna work, Little Chef! I'm gonna lose it if we do this any more. We gotta, we gotta figure out something else. Something that doesn't involve any biting, or nipping, or running up and down my body with your little rat feet. Biting: no! Scampering: no! No scampering or scurrying, understand Little Chef?
Linguini: So this is it. It's not much but it's, y'know... not much.
Colette: I hate to be rude, but we're French!
Gusteau: Remy, what are you doing in here? Remy: Emile shows up... I said not to, I told him! He goes and blabs - it's a disaster! Anyway, they're hungry, the food safe is locked, and I need the key. Gusteau: They want you to steal food? Remy: Yes. No... it's complicated. It's family. They don't have your ideals. Gusteau's Corn Puppies: Gusteau's Barbecue Spare-Ribs: Ideals? Hah! If Chef Fancy Pants had any ideals you think I'd be hawkin' barbecue over here? Gusteau's Microwave Burritos: Or Microwave burritos? Gusteau's Tooth-Pickin' Chicken: Or tooth, I say, tooth-pickin' Chicken? S'about as French as a Corn Dog! Gusteau's Corn Puppies: Roof! Roming roon! Gusteau's Barbecue Spare-Ribs: Ha! We're inventin' new ways to sell out over here! Gusteau's Haggis Bites: Will ye' be wantin' some Haggis Bites, then? Gusteau: I cannot control how they use my image Remy, I am dead! Remy: Will you guys SHUT UP? I've got to think!
