Gaunt Young Man: Ah, I love the smell of nicotine in the morning. Smells like - victory!
出自電影《機密真相》 的經典對白。
更多機密真相的經典對白
Whip: This is going to sound real stupid coming from a man in prison. But for the first time in my life, I'm free.
Whip: Nobody could've landed that plane like I did.
Harling Mays: Do not touch the merch mother fucker!
Whip: I'm drunk right now, because I'm an alcoholic.
Whip: I don't suck dick to get high!
Avington Carr: Makes me wanna sniff some lines and go fly a jet!
Gaunt Young Man: Thanks. I'll pass these out in the cancer ward.
Harling Mays: I'm on the list, baby girl. Mister Mays. Harling.
Harling Mays: See y'all on the dark side of the Moon.
Harling Mays: You're a hero, man! You will never pay for a drink for as long as you live.
Trevor: My name's Trevor. You saved my mom.
Gaunt Young Man: Ah, I love the smell of nicotine in the morning. Smells like - victory!
Whip: I drank the night before the flight.
Whip: What kind of God would let this happen?
Whip: This thing is so heavy it's killing me.
Whip: Whoah! Nothing like a little thirty knot crosswind to exercise that ol' sphincter muscle.
Will: This essay, the essay that I have to write, it's called, "The Most Fascinating Person That I've Never Met." Whip: Okay. Will: So, Will: who are you? Whip: That's a good question...
Hugh Lang: The FAA and the NTSB took 10 pilots, placed them in simulators, recreated the events that led to this plane falling out of the sky. Do you know how many of them were able to safely land the planes? Not one. Every pilot crashed the aircraft, killed everybody on board. You were the only one who could do it!
Whip: This is going to sound real stupid coming from a man in prison. But for the first time in my life, I'm free.
Whip: Nobody could've landed that plane like I did.
Harling Mays: Do not touch the merch mother fucker!
Harling Mays: Honey, could you hustle us up a couple of daiquiris and a cocktail weenie? On second thought, just bring the booze, I brought my own weenie. Oh, she's offended. And she should be. I'm a pig. And I hate me. That's what we have in common, nurse Rached. We both hate me.
Whip: I'm drunk right now, because I'm an alcoholic.
Whip: I don't suck dick to get high!
Avington Carr: Makes me wanna sniff some lines and go fly a jet!
Gaunt Young Man: Thanks. I'll pass these out in the cancer ward.
Harling Mays: I'm on the list, baby girl. Mister Mays. Harling.
Trevor: My name's Trevor. You saved my mom.
Harling Mays: See y'all on the dark side of the Moon.
Harling Mays: You're a hero, man! You will never pay for a drink for as long as you live.
Harling Mays: Whip. What's the deal, buddy? You look like you're hurt for certain. Harling Mays: DO NOT TOUCH THE MERCH, MOTHERFUCKER! Take one step back, please.
Gaunt Young Man: Ah, I love the smell of nicotine in the morning. Smells like - victory!
Whip: I drank the night before the flight.
Whip: What kind of God would let this happen?
Whip: This thing is so heavy it's killing me.
Whip: Whoah! Nothing like a little thirty knot crosswind to exercise that ol' sphincter muscle.
Whip: I'm fine.
Carr's Attorney: Last time I checked, six counts of manslaughter is life in prison. Avington Carr: Life in prison. What we in Georgia call "all day long."
Hugh Lang: You gonna shoot me? Or can I come inside? Whip: Yeah, come on inside. I'll shoot you inside.
Whip: Do you think you would be alive today if I was not flying that plane? Ken Evans: No. We'd all be dead. But can you argue with me that your physical condition was tip-top?
Atlanta ATC: SouthJet 227, Atlanta Centre. Descend and maintain flight level three-zero-zero. Ken Evans: Descend and maintain flight level three-zero-zero, SouthJet 227. Whip: Whoa, wha? What is that? Ken Evans: The elevator feels really stiff, sir! Whip: Alright, hold course. Margaret, get everybody strapped in, get everybody strapped in tight! Ken Evans: Full left hard sir! Whip: Power back! Power back! Margaret Thomason: Ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts now! Fasten your seatbelts securely now! Ken Evans: I have no control on my side. No control at all sir. Whip: We've lost our hydraulics. Centre, this is SouthJet 227, we've lost our hydraulics and feels like our pitch control. Atlanta ATC: Southjet 227, Atlanta Centre, understand you've lost hydraulics and pitch control? Whip: That is affirm, we are in an uncontrolled descent. Atlanta ATC: Southjet 227, Atlanta, say your intentions. Are you declaring an emergency? Margaret Thomason: Everyone's belted in, are we going down? Whip: We need everyone in brace positions. Yes, that is affirm, we are in a dive. We are in a dive. We have lost vertical control. We're gonna need drag, I want you to throw out everything you got, the speedbrakes, the gear, everything. Ken Evans: Gear, speedbrakes. Margaret Thomason: Brace positions, head down and forward, head down and forward! Ken Evans: Uh, gear is down. I don't think hydraulics is the problem sir. Whip: We need to dump the fuel, do it! Atlanta Centre, this is SouthJet 227, we are in an uncontrolled dive, descending out of 21,000 feet, we're declaring an emergency. We've dumped our fuel. We've got a jammed stabilizer or something, we need a block of altitude to work the problem and a heading to the nearest airport. Atlanta ATC: SouthJet 227, Hartsfield-Jackson Airport is twelve o clock at two-zero miles from your present position. Turn left, heading three-one-five. Whip: Dump the flaps. Ken Evans: We're still fast. Whip: Just do it. Do it, 30 degrees. Three-one-five, we'll try our best. Alright, that bought us a little time. That bought us a little time. Now we've got to revert to manual control, your side first. Ken Evans: OK, I got it. Nothing, no control. Oh no, we're diving again! Whip: Alright, Okay, okay. I can't let go of my side, see if you can reach my side.
Hugh Lang: An initial report shows alcohol in your bloodstream at a level of .24. In the U.S. -- one of the most lenient drunk driving countries in the world -- you go to jail for driving with a number over .08. And by driving, I mean a car. Whip: What does that mean? I had a beer the night before I flew. And what... that made the tail of the plane explode? Charlie Anderson: Separate issues, Whip. Whip: I need a lawyer. Charlie Anderson: Hugh is your lawyer. Whip: I need a bigger lawyer. A lawyer who understands that I flew a broken plane and without me at that stick there'd be 102 funerals, not 6. Hugh Lang: We're talking about prison, not funerals. Somebody has... Whip: To write checks. Well, it's not me, I promise you that. And as long as they're writing checks, write me one because someone put me in a broken plane. I'd love a check. Charlie Anderson: Easy, Whip. Hugh Lang: This tox report states that you were drunk and high on cocaine, felonies punishable by 24 years in jail. And if your intoxication is proven to have caused the death of the 4 passengers you'll get 4 counts of manslaughter. That could be life in prison. Can I now do my job on your behalf and kill this tox report? Charlie Anderson: He'll get it done, Whip. It's what his entire life is about. Trust me, trust him. Don't worry, Whip. You're gonna walk away the hero you deserve to be. Whip: I'm not worried, Charlie. I promise you that. No one could have landed that plane like I did. No one.
Charlie Anderson: I the press gets this it could kill the airline. Avington Carr: Fuck the airline, I just don't want them sniffing into my other pockets.
