Every time the plane banked too sharply on takeoff or landing, I prayed for a crash or a midair collision. Anything.
Fight Club
4.2s
Now you see our dilemma. She knows too much.
Fight Club
2.4s
I am Jack�s wasted life.
Fight Club
4.9s
Security? I am Jack's smirking revenge. Ohh!
Fight Club
1.4s
Hey, Marla!
Fight Club
6.3s
Sorry. What did - Come here! Leave me alone! You crazy? Uhh!
Fight Club
12.4s
You give up the condo life... give up all your flaming worldly possessions... go live in a dilapidated house in a toxic waste part of town... and you have to come home to this. Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!
Fight Club
20.3s
It's useless to fight. This is really a powerful gesture, Mr. Durden. It'll set quite an example. You're making a big mistake, fellas. You said you'd say that. I'm not Tyler Durden! You told us you'd say that, too. All right, I am Tyler Durden. Listen to me, I'm giving you a direct order. We are aborting this mission, right now. You said you would definitely say that.
Fight Club
4.9s
Tyler's door was closed. I'd been living here for 2 months, and Tyler's door was never closed.
Fight Club
4.2s
Excuse me? Don't worry about us, sir. We're solid.
Fight Club
22.5s
I don't know how Tyler found that house, but he said he'd been there for a year. It looked like it was waiting to be torn down. Most of the windows were boarded up. There was no lock on the front door from when the police or whoever kicked it in. The stairs were ready to collapse. I didn't know if he owned it or if he was squatting. Neither would have surprised me.
Fight Club
7.4s
Yeah? Hey, you know, some of this information checks out. Let's go over to that house on Paper Street. Be right there.
Fight Club
6.7s
It's called a changeover. The movie goes on, and nobody in the audience has any idea.
Fight Club
3.9s
Somebody timing this? No! No! Keep your mouth shut!
Fight Club
3.2s
Back up. Face down on the floor, both of you, right now!
Fight Club
2.3s
Where's your car? What car?
Fight Club
33.8s
Look, this is a bad time. I've been going to Debtors Anonymous. You wanna see some really fucked up people? I'm just on my way out. Me, too. I've got a stomach-full of Xanax. I took what was left of a bottle. It might have been too much. Just picture watching Marla Singer throw herself around her crummy apartment. But this isn't a for-real suicide thing. This is probably one of those cry-for-help things. This could go on for hours. So you're staying in tonight, then? Do you wanna wait and hear me describe death? Do you wanna listen and see if my spirit can use a phone?