Advertising has its taste in cars and clothes... working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War... no Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war. Our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars. But we won't. We're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. - Yeah! - Yeah!
Fight Club
41.5s
My name is Bob. Bob. Bob had been a champion body-builder. You know that chest-expansion program you see on late-night TV? That was his idea. I was a juicer. You know, using steroids. Diabonal and... Wistrol. Oh, they use that on racehorses, for Christ sakes. And now I'm bankrupt. I'm divorced. My 2 grown kids... won't even return my phone calls. Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one.
Fight Club
7.1s
Under and behind and inside, everything this man took for granted... something horrible had been growing.
Fight Club
2.1s
Unbelievable. Aah!
Fight Club
5.6s
Come on, man! But Ricky was a god for 10 minutes when the trounced the maitre d' of a local food court.
Fight Club
3.1s
Aw, come on. Don't go.
Fight Club
13.1s
Next group, after guided meditation, after we open our heart chakras, when it's time to hug, I'm gonna grab that little bitch Marla Singer and scream... Marla, you liar! You big tourist! I need this! Now get out!
Fight Club
1.5s
I feel ill.
Fight Club
1m19s
Like so many others, I had become a slave to the IKEA nesting instinct. Uh, yes. I'd like to order the Erica Pekkary dust ruffles. Please hold. If I saw something clever Like a little coffee table in the shape of a yin-yang, I had to have it. The Klipske personal office unit, the Hovetrekke home exert-bike, or the Johannshamn sofa with the Strinne green stripe pattern. Even the Rizlampa wire lamps of environmentally friendly unbleached paper. I'd flip through catalogs and wonder: What kind of dining set defines me as a person? I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections. Proof that they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of - Please hold. Wherever. I was holding. We used to read pornography. Now it was the Horchow collection. No, you can't die from insomnia. What about narcolepsy? I nod off. I wake up in strange places. I have no idea how I got there. You need to lighten up. Can you please just get me something? Red and blue Tuenois, lipstick-red Seconais. No. You need healthy natural sleep. Chew some Valerian root and get more exercise.
Fight Club
2.1s
Fine.
Fight Club
33.4s
We have front row seats for this theater of mass destruction. The demolitions committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings with blasting gelatin. In 2 minutes, primary charges will blow base charges and a few square blocks will be reduced to smoldering rubble. I know this... because Tyler knows this. 2 1/2. Think of everything we've accomplished. And suddenly, I realize that all of this: The gun, the bombs, the revolution... has got something to do with a girl named Marla Singer.
Fight Club
3.4s
You're not how much money you have in the bank.
Fight Club
8.5s
- Yeah! - Ha ha ha! Hoo hoo hoo! What the fuck did you guys do? ...how the blaze started, but arson investigators are on the premises...
Fight Club
4.6s
I'll be out of your way in a sec. You don't have to go.
Fight Club
1.8s
Look, Tyler, Tyler!
Fight Club
10.9s
Hey, come on. I'm in pain. You wanna see pain? Swing by First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the guys with testicular cancer. That's pain.
Fight Club
43.8s
Bob. Bob had bitch-tits. This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosey slobbering all over me, that was Bob. We're still men. Yes, we're men. Men is what we are. 8 months ago, Bob's testicles were removed. Then hormone therapy. He developed bitch-tits because his testosterone was too high, and his body upped the estrogen. And that was where I fit... They're gonna have to open up my pecks again and drain the fluid. Between those huge, sweating tits that hung enormous the way you'd think of God�s as big. OK. You cry now. No, wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.
Fight Club
15.4s
For 6 months, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy.