Found 431 results

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11.7s
You came close, but you never made it. And if you were gonna make it, you would have made it before now. [ Music Continues ]

Pulp Fiction

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6.1s
- Don't you hate that? - Hate what? Uncomfortable silences.

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8.2s
- What's up? - Man, I'm really sorry. You shouldn't worry about it. Pack of Red Apples. $1.40.

Pulp Fiction

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3.1s
[ Cheering Continues ]

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18.2s
No. Well, your Uncle Marsellus is. And I'm positive that if Uncle Conrad and Aunt... - Ginny. - Ginny were here, they would furnish you with a whole bedroom set, which your Uncle Marsellus is more than happy to do.

Pulp Fiction

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11.6s
I think so. That means that God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets. That's right. That's exactly what it means. God came down from Heaven and stopped these motherfuckin' bullets.

Pulp Fiction

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9.7s
-What was that? -I think you heard me just fine, punchy. Vincent Vega's in the house? My nigger, get your ass over here.

Pulp Fiction

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1m29s
Mmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This some serious gourmet shit. Me and Vincent would've been satisfied... with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice. Right? [ Chuckles ] And he springs this serious gourmet shit on us. - What flavor is this? - Knock it off, Julie. - What? - I don't need you to tell me how fuckin' good my coffee is. I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping, she buys shit. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff 'cause when I drink it, I wanna taste it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It ain't the coffee in my kitchen. It's the dead nigger in my garage. - Jimmie, don't even worry- - Don't tell me about anything. I wanna ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you notice the sign on the front of my house that said, "Dead Nigger Storage"? - You know I ain't seen no- - Did you notice the sign on the front of my house... that said, "Dead Nigger Storage"? No. I didn't. - You know why you didn't see that sign? - [ Sighs ] Why? 'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead niggers ain't my fuckin' business, that's why! - We're not gonna store the motherfucker- - Don't you fuckin' realize... that if Bonnie comes home and finds a dead body in her house, I'm gonna get divorced? No marriage counselor. No trial separation. I'm gonna get fuckin' divorced. Okay? And I don't wanna get fuckin' divorced! Man, you know, fuck, I wanna help you, but I don't wanna lose my wife doin' it. Jimmie, Jimmie, she ain't gonna leave you. Don't fuckin' "Jimmie" me, Jules! Okay? Don't fuckin' "Jimmie" me. There's nothin' you're gonna say that's gonna make me forget I love my wife. Is there?

Pulp Fiction

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2.2s
[ Car Door Closing ]

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2.7s
- [ Groans ] - [ Thud ]

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2.3s
At Marsellus's request.

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2.1s
[ Sighs ]

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But I'm tryin', Ringo.

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5.1s
Bonsoir, Esmarelda Villa Lobos. Buenas Noches, Butch.

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8.9s
Hello? Billy Raye was a preacher's son and when his daddy would visit he'd come along Vincent.

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6.4s
[ Vincent ] How ya been? - I been doin' pretty good. How 'bout yourself? - All right.

Pulp Fiction

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26.7s
- Have you met Mia? - Not yet. - [ Chuckles ] - What's so fuckin' funny? - Not a goddamn thing. - I got to piss. Look, I'm not a fuckin' idiot, all right? It's the big man's wife. I'm gonna sit across from her, chew my food with my mouth closed, Iaugh at her fuckin' jokes, and that's it. Hey, my name's Paul, and this shit's between y'all. Then what'd you fuckin' ask me about it for? [ Whispers ] Asshole.

Pulp Fiction

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1m6s
- [ Engine Starts ] - [ Radio: "Flowers On The Wall" ] lf I were walkin' in your shoes Countin' flowers on the wall That don't bother me at all Playin' solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of fifty-one That's how you're gonna beat 'em, Butch. - Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo - They keep underestimatin' ya. Now don't tell me [ Singing Along ] Countin' flowers on the wall That don't bother me at all Playin' solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of fifty-one Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo Now don't tell me I've nothin' to do It's good to see you I must go I know I look a fright - Anyway my eyes - Motherfucker. - Are not accustomed- - Uhh!

Pulp Fiction