Narrator: I want to be Fred Astaire. Irish dancers look like they have steel rods stuck up their arses.
出自電影《天使的孩子》 的經典對白。
更多天使的孩子的經典對白
Young Frank: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a minute since my last confession.
Young Frank: In the name of the father, the son and the holy toast.
Theresa: Lord, you might be scrawny, but that's a fine boyo you have there.
Malachy: It's poor I am. It's unlucky I am. But it's useless I am not.
Narrator: It was the first time my father ever kissed me. I felt so happy I could float.
Malachy: I wouldn't give the English the steam off my pish!
Aunt Aggie: You're wearin me dead mothers dress!
Older Frank: Every night you went up there! Squeak Squeak Squeak with Laman Griffin!
Young Frank: He's fatter than the baby Jesus!
Young Frank: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a minute since my last confession.
Young Frank: In the name of the father, the son and the holy toast.
Theresa: Lord, you might be scrawny, but that's a fine boyo you have there.
Malachy: It's poor I am. It's unlucky I am. But it's useless I am not.
Narrator: It was the first time my father ever kissed me. I felt so happy I could float.
Malachy: I wouldn't give the English the steam off my pish!
Older Frank: I hit my mother...
Aunt Aggie: You're wearin me dead mothers dress!
Older Frank: Every night you went up there! Squeak Squeak Squeak with Laman Griffin!
Young Frank: He's fatter than the baby Jesus!
Angela McCourt: If I were able I would go to work in the English factories. Malachy: Factory's no place for a woman Angela. Angela McCourt: Sittin' on your arse is no place for a man Malachy.
Young Malachy: Look at my bum! Young Frank: Stop showing your bum! Young Malachy: I was just trying to make them laugh!
Angela McCourt: I was thinking of calling him Alphonsius. Middle Frank: Alphonsius? That's a stupid name!
Mrs. Leibowitz: What is it, Malachy? Malachy: It's a beautiful wee girl, Mrs. Liebowitz! After four boys, can you believe it? A wee girl.
Angela McCourt: If I could work, I'd be in the English factories. Malachy: A factory's no place for a woman. Angela McCourt: Sittin' on your arse is no place for a man.
Aunt Aggie: Jesus, you have enough dirt in your ears to grow potatoes.
Delia: I swear it's the Northern Ireland in you. It attracts the dirt. You've the dirty gob of your father.
Young Frank: Mam, can I go now and make the Collection? I want to go to the Lyric to see James Cagney.
Dance Teacher: Would you stop the frowning Frankie McCourt? You've a face on you like a pound of tripe.
Narrator: I want to be Fred Astaire. Irish dancers look like they have steel rods stuck up their arses.
Quasimodo: Okay, it's a shilling for the three of you. Climb up the spout, and each of youse have a look, but no wankin'! Middle Paddy Clohessy: I've my own sisters. Why should I pay to see your naked sisters? Quasimodo: 'Cause looking at your own naked sisters is the worst sin of all. Not even a bishop in the world could forgive you for it. Middle Frank: What can you see? Older Mikey Molloy: Oh, it's grand. Middle Paddy Clohessy: Can you see their tits, Mikey? Quasimodo: I said no wankin', Molloy. There's to be no wankin' up the spout. Older Mikey Molloy: Oh, it's grand. Quasimodo: I said no wankin' up the spout!
Middle Paddy Clohessy: Frankie, I'm telling you, that dancing stuff is for sissies. You won't be able to play football next. Middle Frank: I won't? Middle Paddy Clohessy: You'll be running around girlie-like. Middle Frank: Shut up. Middle Paddy Clohessy: Everyone will be laughing at you. Middle Frank: They will? Middle Paddy Clohessy: Next thing, you'll be knitting socks.
Malachy: God is good, you know. Angela McCourt: God might be good for someone somewhere, but he hasn't been seen lately in the lanes of Limerick. Malachy: Oh, Angela. You could go to hell for saying that. Angela McCourt: Aren't I there already, Malachy?
Narrator: I loved the Shakespeare. It was like having jewels in your mouth when you said the words.
Angela McCourt: Get off me, will you? I'm worn out. That's the end of it for me. No more children. Malachy: A good Catholic woman should perform her wifely duties. Angela McCourt: Oh, feck off, will you? Malachy: You'll face eternal damnation, Angela. Angela McCourt: Well, as long as there are no more children, eternal damnation sounds just fine to me, Malachy.
Mrs. Purcell: Isn't it grand, the radio, Frankie? Older Frank: 'Tis, Mrs. Purcell. Mrs. Purcell: Do you see Bedouins in the Sahara - and the cowboys on the prairie? Older Frank: I do. And people sipping wine in cafes. And sailors in their galleons sipping their cocoa. And plays about the Greeks, where they have to pluck out their eyes because they married their mothers by mistake. Mrs. Purcell: And the Shakespeare. I love the Shakespeare. Older Frank: Shakespeare is like mashed potatoes, Mrs. Purcell. You can't get enough of 'em. Mrs. Purcell: I'm sure Mr. Shakespeare must have been an Irishman.
Narrator: Oh, America. Where no one has bad teeth and everyone has a lavatory.
Narrator: Paddy Clohessy found a priest to confess our hideous sins to. He's 90 years old and deaf as a turnip.
Mr. O'Halloran: Adroit, McCourt. You have a mind for the priesthood, my boy, or politics.
Laman Griffin: Woman, boil some water for tea. Angela McCourt: We've no coal or turf. Laman Griffin: You useless great lump, living free under me roof with you snotty-nosed pack of brats.
Laman Griffin: Angela, the chamber pot is full. Angela McCourt: Is there anything else your lordship would like? Laman Griffin: Woman's work, Angela. Woman's work and free rent.
Angela McCourt: People who write letters like that should be boiled in oil and then have their fingernails pulled out by blind people.
Uncle Pat: What happened to your face? It's all swole. Did someone punch you? Older Frank: Yeah. Uncle Pat: Who was punching you? Older Frank: Joe Louis. Uncle Pat: Joe Louis? I thought he lived in America. Was he visiting Limerick? Older Frank: He was, Uncle Pat. Uncle Pat: That's not right, him hitting a wee boy... and him being heavyweight champion of America and all. Older Frank: The world champion he is, Uncle Pat. Uncle Pat: That's worse. And look at you, so skinny. Those arms wouldn't lift two stamps.
