Ruth Barron: Be kind? So what? You don’t think I’m kind.
PJ Waters: *Shakes head no*
Ruth Barron: Oh, God. Now I feel sick. Why didn’t you just write “cruel”?
PJ Waters: Hey, come on.
Ruth Barron: No, you’re right. Be kind. . .that’s the whole point. Thank you. I’m very grateful. That is it, isn’t it? The only thing. The Dalai Lama said it. . .kindness. Do you know what I’m really scared of?
PJ Waters: What?
Ruth Barron: Don’t tell anyone.
PJ Waters: No.
Ruth Barron: Despite all my strong feelings, I’m heartless.
Mrs. Helen Givings: April, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
John Givings: Alright! Sorry. Sorry! Sorry! Oh, oh, oh ma, have I said sorry enough times? Damn! I am sorry too, I’m just about the sorriest bastard I know, but you get right down to it, I don’t have a hell of a lot to be glad about, do I? Oh but hey, know what? I am glad about one thing. Wanna know what I’m glad about? I’m glad I’m not gonna be that kid.
Sarah Pierce: I think I understand your feelings about this book. I used to have some problems with it, myself. When I read it in grad school, Madam Bovary just seemed like a fool. She marries the wrong man; makes one foolish mistake after another; but when I read it this time, I just fell in love with her. She’s trapped! She has a choice: she can either accept a life of misery or she can struggle against it. And she chooses to struggle.
Mary Ann: Some struggle. Hop into bed with every guy who says hello.
Sarah Pierce: She fails in the end, but there’s something beautiful and even heroic in her rebellion. My professors would kill me for even thinking this, but in her own strange way, Emma Bovary is a feminist.
Mary Ann: Oh, that’s nice. So now cheating on your husband makes you a feminist?
Sarah Pierce: No, no, it’s not the cheating. It’s the hunger. The hunger for an alternative, and the refusal to accept a life of unhappiness.
Mary Ann: Maybe I didn’t understand the book! She just looks so pathetic.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: What did you bring me over here for?
Sylvia Llewelyn Davies: Peter.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: But, this is absurd. It’s just a dog.
Sylvia Llewelyn Davies: Come on, darling.
J.M. Barrie: Just a dog? *Just*? Porthos, don’t listen! Porthos dreams of being a bear, and you want to dash those dreams by saying he’s *just* a dog? What a horrible candle-snuffing word. That’s like saying, “He can’t climb that mountain, he’s just a man”, or “That’s not a diamond, it’s just a rock.” Just.
When I first saw Ang Lee’s adaptation of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, I had just finished reading the book and to be quite honest, I didn’t care for it all that much. Emma Thompson won an Oscar for her adapted screenplay and, when I first saw it, I was really unhappy with the changes she’d made to the story and some of the characters. But after repeat viewings, I fell deeply in love with the film, despite said changes. I think it’s really one of those times where you have to suit the story for a new medium and modern audiences (kind of like the 2006 version of The Painted Veil). Sense and Sensibility was nominated for seven Academy Awards, winning one: Best Dramatic Score, Best Costume Design, Best Cinematography, Best Adapted Screenplay Emma Thompson (won), Best Supporting Actress Kate Winslet, Best Actress Emma Thompson and Best Picture. The other films nominated for Best Picture that year were Apollo 13, Babe, Il Postino and winner Braveheart. Both Ron Howard (Apollo 13) and Ang Lee were not nominated for Best Director, despite their films being nominated for Best Picture. Those two spots were given to Tim Robbins (Dead Man Walking) and Mike Figgis (Leaving Las Vegas). Lee, however, was nominated for Best Director by several critic associations, as well as at the BAFTAs, the Golden Globes and the DGA. He was also named Best Director by the National Board of Review.
Arthur Abbott: You know what I’ve been asking myself all night?
Iris: What? Why I’m bothering you with all these questions?
Arthur Abbott: I’m wondering why a beautiful girl like you would go to a strangers’ house for their Christmas Vacation, and on top of that spend Saturday night with an old cock-up like me.
Iris: Well, I just wanted to get away from all the people I see all the time!… Well, not all the people… one person. I wanted to get away from one… guy.[sobs] An ex-boyfriend who just got engaged and forgot to tell me.
Arthur Abbott: So, he’s a schmuck.
Iris: As a matter of fact, he is… a huge schmuck. How did you know?
Arthur Abbott: He let you go. This is not a hard one to figure out. Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend.
Iris: You’re so right. You’re supposed to be the leading lady of your own life, for god’s sake! Arthur, I’ve been going to a therapist for three years, and she’s never explained anything to me that well. That was brilliant. Brutal, but brilliant.
Marianne: No—he is not so unworthy as you think him.
Elinor: Not so unworthy! Did he tell you that he loved you?
Marianne: Yes. No—never absolutely. It was every day implied, but never declared. Sometimes I thought it had been, but it never was. He has broken no vow.
Elinor: He has broken faith with all of us, he made us all believe he loved you!
Marianne: He did! He did—he loved me as I loved him.