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PSYCHOcatholic
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www.whysanity.net/monos is a great site for movie monologues. There are some TV and some play ones in there as well. My all time favorite is really a TV one from an X-Files episode entitle "Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man"

"Life is like a box of chocolates... A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable because all you get back is another box of chocolates. So you're stuck with this undefinable whipped mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there's nothing else left to eat. Sure, once in awhile there's a... a peanut butter cup... or a... English toffee. But they're gone too fast...the taste is fleeting. So you end up with nothing but broken bits filled with hardened jelly and teeth shattering nuts. If you're desperate enough to eat those, all you've got left is a... Is an empty box, filled with useless, brown paper wrappers."

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Annie (Susan Sarandon) in "Bull Durham":

I believe in the church of baseball. I've tried all the major religions and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there's 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there's 108 stitches in a baseball. When I learned that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn't work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. Y'see, there's no guilt in baseball, and it's never boring. Which makes it like sex. There's never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn't have the best year of his career. Making love is like hitting a baseball. You just gotta relax and concentrate. Besides, I'd never sleep with a player hitting under .250. Not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle. Y'see, there's a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I get a ballplayer alone, I'll just read Emily Dickenson or Walt Whitman to him. And the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. Of course, a guy'll listen to anything if he thinks it's foreplay. I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe -- and pretty. 'Course what I give them lasts a lifetime. What they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade. But bad trades are part of baseball. Who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for god's sake! It's a long season, and you gotta trust it. I've tried them all, I really have. And, the only church that feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the church of baseball.

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Remember the movie, "Swingers", with Jon Favreau?

"Look, we're gonna spend half the night driving around the Hills looking for this one party and you're going to say it sucks and we're all gonna leave and then we're gonna go look for this other party. But all the parties and all the bars, they all suck. I spend half the night talking to some girl who's looking around the room to see if there's somebody else who's more important she should be talking to. And it's like I'm supposed to be all happy 'cause she's wearing a backpack, you know? And half of them are just nasty skanks who wouldn't be nothing except they're surrounded by a bunch of drunken horny assholes. And I'm gonna tell you something T. Are you listening? I'm not gonna be one of those assholes. Alright? It just makes me sick. It's like, some nasty skank who isn't half the woman my girlfriend is, is gonna front me? It makes me want to f**kin' puke!"

And the reason Robin Williams won an oscar in "Good Will Hunting":

"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared s**tless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my f**king life apart. You're an orphan right? You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally... I don't give a s**t about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some f**kin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief."

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Two words: Monty Python.

Oh hell yeah. These mean are geniuses in the best way possible. Monty Python and the Holy Grail is one of my favorite movies of all time.

Annie (Susan Sarandon) in "Bull Durham":

I've tried them all, I really have. And, the only church that feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the church of baseball.

This quote is one of my all time favorites. It sums up my life in the best way possible. Although I prefer the monologue that Crash says in this movie as a whole piece better:

"Well, I believe in the soul. The c**k. The p**sy. The small of a woman's back. The hanging curveball. High fiber. Good scotch. That the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated c**p. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a Constitution Amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas eve. And I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days...Goodnight."

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Sally Fields' funeral speech from "Steel Magnolias" kills me every time...

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

[screaming] I'm fine! I can jog all the way to Texas and back, but my daughter can't! She never could! Oh God! I am so mad I don't know what to do! I wanna know why! I wanna know why Shelby's life is over! I wanna know how that baby ever know how wonderful his mother was! Will he ever know what she went through for him! Oh God I wanna know *why*? *Why*? Lord, I wish I could understand!

[in a firm tone] No! No! No! It's not supposed to happen this way! I'm supposed to go first. I've always been ready to go first! I-I don't think I can take this! I-I don't think I can take this! I-I just wanna hit somebody 'til they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna hit something! I wanna hit it hard!"

Rosie O'Donnell's character in "Beautiful Girls" has the most hilarious rant on "fake" women...

I'm finished speaking to both of you okay? You're both f***ing insane. You want to know what your problem is? MTV, Playboy, and Madison f***ing Avenue. Yes. Let me explain something to you, ok? Girls with big t*ts have big *sses. Girls with little t*ts have little *sses. That's the way it goes. God doesn't f**k around; he's a fair guy. He gave the fatties big, beautiful t*ts and the skinnies little tiny nibblers. It's not my rule. If you don't like it, call him.

[Looking at a porn magazine]

Oh, guys, look what we have here. Look at this, your favorite. Oh, you like that? Yeah, that's nice right? Well, it doesn't exist ok. Look at the hair. The hair is long, it's flowing, it's like a river. Well, it's a f***ing weave ok? And the t*ts, please! I could hang my overcoat on them. T*ts by design were invented to be suckled by babies. Yes, they're purely functional. These are silicone city. And look, my favorite, the shaved pubis. Pubic hair being too unruly and all. Very key. This is a mockery, this is a sham, this is bulls**t. Implants, collagen, plastic, capped teeth, the fat sucked out, the hair extended, the nose fixed, the bush shaved... These are not real women, all right? They're beauty freaks. And they make all us normal women with our wrinkles, our puckered boobs, and our cellulite feel somehow inadequate. Well I don't buy it, all right? But you f***ing mooks, if you think that if there's a chance in hell that you'll end up with one of these women, you don't give us real women anything approaching a commitment. It's pathetic. I don't know what you think you're going to do. You're going to end up eighty-years old, drooling in some nursing home, then you're going to decide, it's time to settle down, get married, have kids? What, are you going to find a cheerleader? Look at Paul. With his models on the wall, his dog named Elle McPherson. He's insane. He's obsessed. You're all obsessed. If you had an once of self-esteem, of self-worth, of self-confidence, you would realize that as trite as it may sound, beauty is truly skin-deep. And you know what, if you ever did hook one of those girls, I guarantee you'd be sick of her. No mater how perfect the nipple, how supple the thigh, unless there is some other s**t going on in the relationship, besides the physical, it's going to get old, ok? And you guys, as a gender, have got to get a grip. Otherwise, the future of the human race is in jeopardy.

:bow: :laughing: :bow: :laughing: :bow:

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great monologues peachy, haven't seen either movie but will have to check them out!

american beauty has some great ones:

My name is Lester Burnham. This is my street. This is my neighborhood. This is my life. I am 42 years old. In less than a year, I will be dead. Of course, I don't know that yet, and in a way, I'm dead already. Look at me, jerking off in the shower. This will be the highlight of my day. It's all downhill from here. That's my wife Carolyn. See the way the handle on those pruning shears match her gardening clogs? That's not an accident. That's our neighbor, Jim, and that's his lover, Jim. Man, Iget exhausted just watching her. She wasn't always like this. She used to be happy. We used to be happy. My daughter, Jane. Only child. Janie's a pretty typical teenager: angry, insecure, confused. I wish I could tell her that's all going to pass...but I don't want to lie to her. Both my wife and daughter think I'm this gigantic loser. And in a way, they're right. I have lost something. I'm not exactly sure what, but I know I didn't always feel this...sedated. But you know what? It's never too late to get it back.

I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches forever, like an ocean of time....for me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout Camp, watching falling stars...and yellow leaves, from the maple trees that lined our street...Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper...and the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird. And Janie...and Janie. And... Carolyn. I guess I could be really pissed off about what happened to me...but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst...and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry...

You will someday.

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Sometimes Monologues have another character to move the whole thing along. So, this is Mr. Trask and Lt. Col. Slade from Scent of a Woman. My Favorite probably.

Mr. Trask: Mr. Sims, you are a cover-up artist and you are a liar.

Col. Frank Slade: But not a snitch!

Trask: Excuse me?

Slade: No, I don't think I will. This is such a crock of s***.

Trask: Mr. Slade, you will watch your language. You are at the Baird School now not a barracks. Now Mr. Sims I will give you one final opportunity to speak up.

Slade: Mr. Sims doesn't want it. He doesn't need to labeled, "...still worthy of being a 'Baird Man.'" What the hell is that? What is your motto here? Boys, inform on your classmates, save your hide. Anything short of that we're gonna burn you at the stake? Well, gentlemen. When the going gets tough, some guys run and some guys stay. Here's Charlie--facing the fire, and there's George--hiding in big Daddy's pocket. And what are you gonna do? You're gonna reward George, and destroy Charlie.

Trask: Are you finished, Mr. Slade?

Slade: No. I'm just gettin' warmed up. Now I don't know who went to this place--William Howard Taft, William Jennings Bryant, William Tell--whoever. Their spirit is dead; if they ever had one, it's gone. You're building a rat ship here. A vessel for sea going snitches. And if you think your preparing these minnows for manhood you better think again. Because I say you are killing the very spirit this institution proclaims it instills. What a sham! What kind of show are you guys puttin' on here today. I mean, the only class in this act is sittin' next to me. And I say, this boy's soul is in tact. It is non-negotiable. You know how I know. Because someone here--I'm not gonna say who--offered to buy it. Only Charlie here wasn't selling.

Mr.Trask: Sir, you are out of order!

Slade: Out of order, I'll show you out of order! You don't know what out of order is Mr.Trask! I'd show you but I'm too old, I'm too tired, and I'm too F****n' blind. If I were the man I was five years ago I'd take a flame-thrower to this place! Out of order, who the hell do you think you're talking to? I've been around you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen, boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there isn't nothin' like the sight of an amputated spirit, there is no prosthetic for that. You think you're merely sending this splendid foot-soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs but I say that you are executing his soul. And why? Because he's not a Baird man. Baird men, you hurt this boy, you're going to be Baird Bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there, f*** you too!

Mr. Trask: Stand down Mr. Slade!

Slade: I'm not finished! Now as I came in here, I heard those words...cradle of leadership. Well, when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And it has fallen here, it has fallen! Makers of men, creators of leaders, be careful what kind of leaders you're producing here. Now, I don't know if Charlie's silence here today is right or wrong; I'm no judge or jury. But I can tell you this: he won't sell anybody out to buy his future! And that my friends is called integrity, that's called courage. Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of. (pause) Now I have come to the crossroads in my days, and I have always known the right path, always, without exception, I knew. But I never took it, you know why? Because it's too d*** hard. Now here's Charlie; he's come to the crossroads. And he's chosen a path, it's the right path. It's a path made of principle, that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey. You hold this boy's future in your hands committee! It's a valuable future. Believe me! Don't destroy...protect it...embrace it. It's gonna make you proud some day...I promise.

Hah, if i missed any cuss words, just lemme know...I believe Hell is nothing bad to bleep out...The cussing is really makes this monologue great...just the way he uses EACH word. Pacino is a great man!

Keep em comin ppl!! Copy and Paste! Im callin this play Mono E Mono.

:coolio:

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  • 1 month later...

Silent Bob: Chasing Amy.

(Shocked silence, more for the audience than anyone else)

Holden: What? What did you say?

Bob: You're chasing Amy.

Jay: Why do you so shocked for, man? Fat bastard does this all the time. Think just because never says anything, it'll have some huge impact when he does open his [bleep] mouth...

Bob: Jesus Christ, why don't you just shut the f*ck up. You're yap, yap, yapping all the time. Give me a f*cking headache. (to Holden) I went through something like what you're talking about, a couple years ago, this chick named Amy.

Jay: When?

Bob: A couple years ago?

Jay: What, you live in Canada or something? Why don't I know about this?

Bob: B*tch, what you don't know about me I could just about squeeze in the Grand [bleep] Canyon. Did you know I always wanted to be a dancer in Vegas? (does a gesture with his hands, a reference to a move by the exotic dancers in "Showgirls") Betcha ya didn't even know that sh*t, did ya?

Jay: So tell your f*cking story so we can get outta here and smoke this.

Bob (to Holden): So, there's me and Amy. And we're all inseparable, right? Big time in love. Then four months down the road, the idiot gear kicks in, and I ask about the ex-boyfriend. Which, as we all know, is a really dumb move. But you know how you don't wanna know, but just have to know--stupid guy bullsh*t. So, anyway, she starts telling me about him. How they fell in love, how they went out for a couple of yeas, how they lived together, her mother likes me better, blah blah blah blah blah. And I'm okay. Then she drops the bomb. And the bomb is this: it seems that a couple of times while they were going out, he brought some people to bed with him, "menage a troi," I believe it's called. And this just blows my mind, right? I mean, I am not used to this sorta thing; I was raised Catholic, for Gods sake.

Jay: Saint sh*thead.

Bob (to Jay): Do something. (to Holden) So I'm totally weirded out by this, right? So I start blasting her. I mean, I don't know how to deal with what I'm feeling, so I figure the best way is to call her 'sl*t,' tell her she was used. I'm out for blood, I really want to hurt this girl. I'm like, "What the f*ck is your problem," right? And she's just trying to calmly tell me it was that time, it was that place, and she doesn't feel like she should apologize because she doesn't feel that she's done anything wrong. And I say, "Oh, really?" That's when I look her straight in the eye, tell her it's over. I walk.

Jay: F*cking-A.

Bob: No, idiot, it was a mistake. I wasn't disgusted with her, I was afraid. In that moment, I felt small, like I lacked experience, like I'd never be enough for her or something like that, you know what I'm saying? But what I did not get: she didn't care. She wasn't looking for that guy any more. She was looking for me, for the Bob. But by the time I figured this all out, it was too late. She had moved on. And all I had to show for it was some foolish pride which gave way to regret. She was the girl. I know that now. But (lights a cigarette) I pushed her away. (pause) So I spend every day since then chasing Amy. (pause) So to speak.

One of my favorite parts of Chasing Amy

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that is a great, great movie and edward norton is one of my favourite actors and shamefully underrated. i don't think he's ever made a bad movie, and he has definitely never done a bad job of a movie! fight club, american history x, rounders, 25th hour, death to smoochy. he's consistently good!

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One of my favorite movies is "PRIMAL FEAR"....excellent movie, and what a great ending! I love endings with an unexpected twist....I cant seem to find the monologues from that movie, I know it had many excellent ones in it...maybe someone who can google better than me can find them, I'd appreciate it soooooo much....thanks

again Edward Norton gives an outstanding performance in this movie....what a great actor

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Well since we've had some Monty Python talk, and Kevin Smith monologues how bout a little Mel Brooks??!!

Blazzing Saddles:

Jim (aka The Waco kid): Yeah, I was the kid...it got so that every pissant prairie punk who thought he could shoot a gun would ride into town to try out the Waco Kid. I must've killed more men than Cecil B Demille. Got pretty gritty. I started to hear the word draw in my sleep. Then one day, I was just walking down the street, and I heard a voice behind me say, "Reach for it Mister!" I spun around and there I was face to face with a six-year-old kid. Well I just threw my guns down and walked away....little bastard shot me in the ass!! So I limped to the nearest saloon, crawled into a whiskey bottle, and I've been there ever since.

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