Found 862 results
1m24s
Will you hand me a dry towel, Miss Beautiful Tulip? - Oh, I like that. I like being called a tulip. - [ Coughs ] "Tulip" is much better than "mongoloid." I didn't call you a mongoloid. I called you a retard. And I took it back. - [ Grunts ] - Butch? Yes, Lemon Pie? - Where are we going to go? - Well, I'm not sure yet. Wherever you want. We're gonna get a lot of money from this, but it ain't gonna be the kind of money... that we can live like hogs in the fathouse forever. I was thinking maybe we could go down someplace in the South Pacific. Kind of money we're gonna have's gonna carry us a long way down there. - If we wanted, we could live in Bora Bora? - You betcha. And if after a while you didn't dig that, we could go someplace else. Maybe Tahiti, Mexico. But I do not speak Spanish. Well, you do not speak Bora-Boran either. Besides, Mexican's easy. - �Donde esta el zapateria? - What does that mean? Where is the shoe store? - �Donde esta- - Spit, please. [ Spits ] - �Donde esta el zapateria? - Excellent pronunciation. - Mmm. - [ Giggles ] You'll be my little mamacita in no time. - [ Yawning ] �Que hora es? - �Que hora es? - What time is it? - What time is it? Time for bed. Sweet dreams, jellybean.
Pulp Fiction
29.4s
About 1,500 dollars. Okay, put it in your pocket. It's yours. Now, with the rest of those wallets and the register, that makes this a pretty successful little score, huh? Jules, you give that fuckin' nimrod 1,500 dollars, and I'll shoot him on general principle. No, Yolanda! Yolanda! He ain't gonna do a goddamn, motherfuckin' thing! Vince, shut the fuck up! - Shut up! - Come on, Yolanda. Stay with me, baby. Now, I ain't givin' it to him, Vincent. I'm buyin' something for my money.
Pulp Fiction
24.5s
- You're Brett, right? - Yeah. I thought so. You remember your business partner Marsellus Wallace, don't ya, Brett? Yeah, I remember. Good. Looks like me and Vincent caught you boys at breakfast. Sorry about that. Whatcha havin'? Hamburgers. Hamburgers! The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.
Pulp Fiction
17.3s
Fabienne! Come on, baby. - Come on. Get your shit. We gotta go right now. - I was so worried. - What about our bags? - Fuck the bags; if we don't split right now, we'll miss the train. - I'll be downstairs. - Is everything well? - Just come on! No talking now! - Are we in danger? [ Groaning Continues ]
Pulp Fiction
41.5s
- Oh, baby, I'm sorry. Come here, come here. - [ Weeping Quietly ] I'm sorry. Mmm. - I'm so sorry. - You were gone so long, I started to think dreadful thoughts. I didn't mean to worry you. Everything's fine. - How was your breakfast? - It was good. Did you get the blueberry pancakes? They didn't have blueberry; I had to get buttermilk. Are you sure you're okay? Since I left you, this has been, without a doubt, the single weirdest fuckin' day of my life- I'll tell you all about it. Gotta go. Come on. Butch, whose motorcycle is this? - It's a chopper, baby. - Whose chopper is this? - Zed's. - Who's Zed? Zed's dead, baby. Zed's dead. [ Engine Starts ]
Pulp Fiction
28s
[ Dog Barking ] Oh, that Paddlefoot. He funny, silly dog. He think totem pole alive! [ Giggling ] He arctic tenderfoot! [ Laughing ] That totem pole been here forever! - [ Woman ] Butch? - [ Paddlefoot Barking ] [ Man On Television ] One more thing, and we'll start for- - Butch, stop watching TV for a second. - Yeah? - You've got a special visitor. - [ TV ] Stand up. Stand up.
Pulp Fiction
22.5s
Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable? I don't know. That's a good question. That's when you know you found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence. Well, I don't think we're quite there yet, but don't feel bad. We just met each other.
Pulp Fiction
22.5s
Don't be that way. Tell me. - No, you wouldn't like it, and I'd be embarrassed. - You'd be embarr- You told 50 million people, and you can't tell me? - I promise I won't laugh. - That's what I'm afraid of, Vince. That's not what I meant. You know it. Now I'm definitely not gonna tell you 'cause it's been built up too much. What a gyp. [ Sighs ]
Pulp Fiction
1m2s
This is Panda from Mexico. Very good stuff. Now, that's Bava. Different, but equally good. And that is Choco from the Harz Mountains of Germany. Now, the first two are the same. 300 a gram. Those are friend prices. But this one is a little more expensive. This is 500 a gram. But, when you shoot it, you will know where that extra money went. There's nothing wrong with these two. This is real, real, real good shit. But this one is a fuckin' madman. Remember, I just got back from Amsterdam. Am I a nigger? Are we in lnglewood? No. You're in my home. Now, white people who know the difference... between good shit and bad shit, this is the house they come to. Now, my shit, I'll take the Pepsi Challenge with that Amsterdam shit... - any old day of the fuckin' week. - That's a bold statement. This ain't Amsterdam, Vince. This is a seller's market. Coke is fuckin' dead as... dead. Heroin, it's comin' back in a big fuckin' way.
Pulp Fiction
2m7s
[ "You Never Can Tell" ] It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished them well You could see that Pierre did truly love the mademoiselle And now the young monsieur and madame have rung the chapel bell C'est la vie say the old folks It goes to show you never can tell They furnished off an apartment with a two-room Roebucks sale The 'coolerador was crammed with TV dinners and ginger ale But when Pierre found work the little money comin' worked out well C'est la vie say the old folks It goes to show you never can tell They had a hi-fi phono and boy did they let it blast Seven hundred little records all rock, rhythm and jazz But when the sun went down the rapid tempo of the music fell C'est la vie say the old folks It goes to show you never can tell They had a teenage wedding and the old folks wished them well You could see that Pierre did truly love the mademoiselle [ Sighs ] [ Alarm Faintly Beeping ]
Pulp Fiction