Best film monologue

[expat]

With respect, a single line of dialogue does not a monologue make.

I suggest Bogart's monologue at the end of Casablanca. Hackneyed, like the whole movie, but irresistible, like the whole movie.

[SpontaneousOrder]

Using your rules, all the other's quoted on here aren't monologues either as other people speak during the movies

Yeah, but replying to yours was the only one that I could use an Australian accent for.

[Bunk]

Not a movie, but I like this one.

Walter White:
Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!

[Batcher]

Yeah, but replying to yours was the only one that I could use an Australian accent for.

"That's not an Australian accent..."

[Pondlife]

"That's not an Australian accent..."

I see you've played knifey-spooney before


http://i.imgur.com/AeEGcZ3.png

[LisaContractorUmbrella]

Blade Runner! Running Man. Silent Runner. Aaaagh. Now you've kicked off my confusion again about which film with runner/running in was which. The last time this happened they had to section me.

Blade runner: Harrison Ford chasing robot types in the pouring rain

Running Man: Police State reigns and runners try to escape certain death at the hands of stalkers

Silent Runner: I have no idea. Did you mean Silent Running? Envrionmentally themed US film starring some people I've never heard of (according to Wiki)

Now you can put away the white coat and take down the rubber wall paper

[vetran]

this one resonates

Rankin Fitch: You think your average juror is King Solomon? No, he's a roofer with a mortgage. He wants to go home and sit in his Barcalounger and let the cable TV wash over him. And this man doesn't give a single, solitary droplet of tulip about trut

[SpontaneousOrder]

Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a tulip. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and ******' play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the ******' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin', 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure **** it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.