Welcome to the fight Club

26 Temmuz 2008 Cumartesi

Goofs for Fight Club

Incorrectly regarded as goofs: Tyler *69s the Narrator at the payphone. While all the Paper Street house phones are rotary, you can dial "1169" from a rotary phone with the same effect; it's likely that Tyler would still refer to this as "*69." And while *69 might not work on a pay phone, this scene is not entirely as it seems, for reasons that become clear by the end of the movie.
Factual errors: When Tyler splices porno frames into family films, the audio track would have only a barely noticeable 1/24 second interruption (as shown) and would stay in sync. However, the flash and sound are shown simultaneously, when in fact, if they were on the same frame, they would be about 3/4 seconds apart. The sound for a 35mm film is read by a head located about a foot past the projection lamp, so the soundtrack for a given frame is also located about a foot past the frame. (Incidentally, the splice is not necessarily at a changeover point; those are discussed only to explain why a projectionist must be present.)
Continuity: When the Narrator is quitting his job, the thermostat changes between silver and black as the shot cuts back and forth between the Narrator and his boss. Also, the distance between the chair and desk with files on it in the background changes between shots.

Continuity: When Tyler throws the Narrator down the stairs, the event is supposedly caught on a security camera. When you see the footage at the security desk the camera that was supposed to have filmed the fight is visible in the security footage. The event is shown from an angle where there's no camera on the wall.
Revealing mistakes: When the narrator talks to his doctor, the x-ray on the wall behind him is not only back-to-front, but also upside-down, though we have one claim this is a common real-world error.
Continuity: Blood on Tyler's face early on during his fight with Lou the bar owner.
Miscellaneous: When a Fight Club member sprays the priest with a hose, the camera briefly shakes. This happens because the cameraman couldn't keep himself from laughing.
Revealing mistakes: During the fight scene in the garage between Tyler and the narrator, the concrete wall moves when the narrator is thrown against it.
Continuity: In the talk between Tyler and the narrator after the first lovemaking of Tyler & Marla, Tyler's cigarette switches from burning to not burning to burning again.
Continuity: The sweat around the Narrator's collar when he's in the dry cleaner's looking for Tyler.
Continuity: During the fight in the garage, Tyler puts the narrator's head through the passenger side mirror of a van. The mirror then changes position when Tyler looks in it.
Crew or equipment visible: When the Narrator is getting off the table in the police station after getting the gun, the wireless mic pack is visible and connected to his underpants.
Crew or equipment visible: After the scene in the bathroom where "Tyler" threatens the police chief, you see Meat Loaf's character's trousers fall down, revealing the body suit he was wearing.
Continuity: When The Narrator is lying in bed reading a magazine listening to Tyler and Marla have sex upstairs, there is a copy of BusinessWeek on the table next to his bed with the cover "The Technology Paradox." In the next shot, there is a close-up of the magazine with water dripping on it with the cover "The Best and The Worst Boards."
Continuity: When the Narrator is breaking into the building (near the end of the movie), Jack slams a bench into the glass door, which rebounds a little bit and hits him. He eventually shoots the door he tried ramming, and when he kicks the glass and goes through, the bench is gone.
Crew or equipment visible: When Tyler is urinating in the soup, the boom microphone becomes visible as it moves to allow him to talk into it.
Continuity: At any given point in the movie after Tyler gives the Narrator a scar on one of his hands it is not present or is on the wrong hand.
Continuity: When the narrator is in the police interrogation room at the end of the movie with the detectives, the sweat on the neck of his shirt changes from shot to shot.
Continuity: When the Narrator hangs up after calling Tyler in the phone booth, the phone is put in the wrong position. But when the phone rings, it's in the right position again.
Revealing mistakes: When Lou is punching Tyler, Lou punches once and there is blood, it shows Tyler again and there is no blood, and then blood again when he gets punched the second time.
Continuity: When the narrator is in the bathroom whistling, you can see he has a black eye on his right side, when the previous scene it shows him getting punched in the left eye.
Miscellaneous: In the scene depicting Tyler cutting out various news clippings about the exploits of Fight Club/Project Mayhem all of the articles feature the same few paragraphs, and none of them have anything to do with the title of the article.
Boom mic visible: When the narrator is being held down on the table at the police station, a boom mike is visible at the top of the screen for a few seconds.
Continuity: When Jack is firing at Tyler through the glass after trying to ram the door with the chair, there are no bullet-holes on the wall behind.
Continuity: In the first scene, when Tyler looks outside the window, the projector that lights his gun is on at first, but seconds later it's off, without anyone touching it.
Continuity: When Lou of "Lou's Tavern" is beating Tyler Durden, we hear Lou's bodyguard cock this pistol. A second later we see the hammer of the pistol uncocked.

Revealing mistakes: SPOILER: In the scene when Project Mayhem is returning from destroying the Starbucks, Bob is shown in a sequence of being shot in the head, and they uncover his body, showing a massive exit wound. There are two problems with this. In the flashback sequence when he is shot, the police officer is clearly behind him when shooting, and Bob shoots forward chest first, as if getting shot in the back. The second problem is, if shot in the head, most standard police pistols carry 8-9mm rounds. Number one, even if he were shot in the back of the head, the bullet would not create an entrance wound anywhere near that size. Secondly, because he was supposedly shot from the front, there is no possible way that the bullet would create that large of an exit wound.

FIGHT CLUB

With its kinetic style, visceral approach, compelling storyline, and powerful social message, Fight Club makes a commanding case to be considered the '90s version of A Clockwork Orange. In a time when so few motion pictures leave an impact, Fight Club refuses to be ignored or dismissed. The experience lingers, demanding to be pondered and considered, and, unlike 95% of modern-day thrillers, there is a great deal here to think about and argue over. Fight Club presents an overload of thought-provoking material that works on so many levels as to offer grist for the mills of thousands of reviews, feature articles, and post-screening conversations.

Pre-release interest in Fight Club was understandably high, primarily because of those involved with the project. Jim Uhls' script is based on an influential novel by Chuck Palahniuk (a book that, while not required material in schools, has consumed the free time of countless readers). The lead actor is the ever-popular Brad Pitt, who makes his strongest bid to date to shed his pretty boy image and don the mantle of a serious thespian. Those dubious about Pitt's ability to pull this off in the wake of his recent attempts in Seven Years in Tibet (which is briefly referenced as an in-joke during Fight Club) and Meet Joe Black will suffer a change of heart after seeing this film. Pitt's male co-star, Edward Norton, is widely recognized as one of the most intelligent and versatile performers of his generation. And Fight Club's director, David Fincher, has already made a huge artistic impression on movie-goers with only three features to his credit: Alien 3, Seven (starring Pitt), and The Game. Mix these elements together in Fox's publicity blender, and Fight Club will not carry the title of "Best Movie of 1999 That No One Saw."

The film begins by introducing us to our narrator, Jack, who is brilliantly portrayed by Norton. A chameleon of an actor, Norton seems perfectly suited to every role he plays, whether it's the seemingly-wronged defendant in Primal Fear or the white supremacist in American History X. Here, the actor flows fluidly into the part of a cynical but mild-mannered employee of a major automobile manufacturer who is suffering from a bout of insomnia. When he visits his doctor for a remedy, the disinterested physician tells him to stop whining and visit a support group for testicular cancer survivors if he wants to meet people who really have problems. So Jack does exactly that - and discovers that interacting with these victims gives him an emotional release that allows him to sleep. Soon, he is addicted to attending support group meetings, and has one lined up for each night of the week. That's where he meets Marla Singer (Helena Bonham Carter, looking nothing like the poster girl for British period pieces), another "faker." Unlike Jack, however, she attends purely for the voyeuristic entertainment value.

Then, on what can be described as the worst day of his life (an airline loses his luggage and his apartment unit explodes, destroying all of his possessions), Jack meets the flamboyant Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), a soap salesman with an unconventional view of life. Since Jack is in need of a place to live, Tyler invites him to move in, and the two share a "dilapidated house in a toxic waste part of town." Tyler teaches Jack lessons about freedom and empowerment, and the two begin to physically fight each other as a means of release and rebirth. Soon, others find out about this unique form of therapy, and Fight Club is born - an underground organization (whose first and second rules are: "You do not talk about Fight Club") that encourages men to beat up each other. But this is only the first step in Tyler's complex master plan.

In addition to lead actors Pitt, Norton, and Bonham Carter, all of whom do impeccable work, there are a pair of notable supporting players. The first is Meat Loaf (yes, that Meat Loaf), who portrays the ineffectual Bob. It's a surprisingly strong performance, with the singer-turned-actor capturing the nuances of a complex character. Jared Leto, who is becoming better known to audiences (he was recently in The Thin Red Line), is the blond Angel Face.

Told in a conventional fashion, Fight Club would still have been engaging. However, Fincher's gritty, restless style turns it into a visual masterpiece. The overall experience is every bit as surreal as watching Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange. This is a tale that unfolds in an eerie alternate universe where the melodies of life have the same rhythm as in ours but are in a different key. Fincher also shows just enough restraint that his flourishes seem like important parts of the storytelling method instead of gimmicks. And there are a lot of them. In one scene, a character's apartment is laid out like a page in a furniture catalog, complete with text blurbs superimposed on the screen describing the various pieces. There are occasional single frame interruptions that flash by so quickly that they may pass unnoticed. The film opens with a truly inventive close-up - one that literally gets under the skin. Also in play: a non-linear chronology, a voiceover by a narrator who might not be entirely reliable, frequent breaking of the fourth wall, and an occasional freeze-frame. As was true of Fincher's other three films, Fight Club is dark and fast-paced. There's not a lot of time for introspection. One could call this MTV style, but, unlike many equally frantic movies, there's a reason for each quick cut beyond preventing viewers from becoming bored.

Perhaps the most discussed aspect of Fight Club will be its attitude towards and graphic depiction of violence. Even before the film's official premiere, voices have been raised claiming that the movie glorifies violence by portraying it as something positive. This was the complaint leveled against A Clockwork Orange, which, less than three decades after its controversial release, is universally regarded as a classic. There's no denying that Fight Club is a violent movie. Some sequences are so brutal that a portion of the viewing audience will turn away. (The scene that caused me to wince was when one character reached into his mouth and pulled out a loose tooth.) But the purpose of showing all this bloody pummeling is to make a telling point about the bestial nature of man and what can happen when the numbing effects of day-to-day drudgery cause people to go a little crazy. The men who become members of Fight Club are victims of the dehumanizing and desensitizing power of modern-day society. They have become cogs in a wheel. The only way they can regain a sense of individuality is by getting in touch with the primal, barbaric instincts of pain and violence.

In A Clockwork Orange, Kubrick depicted the actions of the Droogs but did not condone it. This is Fincher's approach in Fight Club. As the film progresses, he systematically reveals each new turn in an ever-deepening spiral that descends into darkness and madness. There's also a heavy element of satire and black comedy. Macabre humor can be found everywhere, from the pithy quips traded by Jack and Tyler to the way Jack interacts with his boss. When combined together, the satire, violence, and unpredictable narrative make a lasting and forceful statement about modern-day society. It's a timely message that hints at why there are post office shootings and kids in schools killing their fellow students. By blaming movies like Fight Club for real-life horrors, politicians want us to look at the world through rose-colored glasses that they have tinted. Instead, Fincher offers a clear, uncompromising portrait that disturbs because it is perceptive and defies the facile answers proffered by elected officials. Movies are not to blame. Guns are not to blame. People and the society that has spawned and stifled them are.

The film has a scope not hinted at in the trailers. After all, how could 139 minutes of untrained boxers beating the hell out of each other be interesting? Fight Club doesn't need to address that question, because its agenda is much larger. To reveal more, however, would be to disclose twists and surprises best left for each viewer to uncover during his or her own movie-going experience. Of course, as is true of all great films, it is possible to know the entire plot of Fight Club beforehand and still be blown away by the experience.

Without going into specifics, I can state that there is a structural similarity to The Sixth Sense. Here, however, the twist is not the whole point of the movie, and it is integrated more effectively into the overall story. If you figure out the so-called "surprise" in The Sixth Sense before the director wants you to, it's difficult to see that film as more than an overlong, uneven example of overt manipulation. The opposite is true of Fight Club, which possesses the depth and breadth to command the attention and respect of anyone who unveils the central conceit before it is explicitly revealed. It's also worth noting that this doesn't happen at the very end, so, while it is an important aspect of Fight Club, it does not dictate the movie's success or failure.

It remains to be seen whether Fight Club will generate any Oscars. The strength of the writing, direction, and acting justifies a stream of nominations, but quality has never been the driving factor in who is recognized by the Academy. Regardless of how it is received in February, when the nominations are announced, Fight Club is a memorable and superior motion picture - a rare movie that does not abandon insight in its quest to jolt the viewer. This marriage of adrenaline and intelligence will make Fight Club a contender for many Best 10 lists at the end of 1999.

Memorable quotes for Fight Club Part 2

Marla Singer: A condom is the glass slipper for our generation. You slip one on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, and then you throw it away. The condom, I mean, not the stranger.
Narrator: What?

Marla Singer: I got this dress at a thrift store for one dollar.
Narrator: It was worth every penny.
Marla Singer: It's a bridesmaid's dress. Someone loved it intensely for one day, and then tossed it. Like a Christmas tree. So special. Then, bam, it's on the side of the road.
[Grabs Narrator's crotch]
Marla Singer: Tinsel still clinging to it. Like a sex crime victim. Underwear inside out. Bound with electrical tape.
Narrator: Well, then it suits you.
Marla Singer: You can borrow it sometime.

Tyler Durden: We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.
Narrator: Martha Stewart.
Tyler Durden: Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns.

[Of Marla]
Tyler Durden: She's a predator posing as a house pet.

Narrator: Marla... the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can't.

Narrator: You had to give it to him: he had a plan. And it started to make sense, in a Tyler sort of way. No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide.

[Pointing at an emergency instruction manual on a plane]
Tyler Durden: Emergency water landing, 600 miles an hour: blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.

Members of Fight Club: [chanting] His name is Robert Paulson.

Tyler Durden: [His face is soaked in blood. He is shaking it over Lou and screaming] You don't know where I've been. You don't know where I've been. Just let us have the basement Lou.

[while the narrator is on the phone with the police]
Tyler Durden: Tell him. Tell him, The liberator who destroyed my property has realigned my perceptions.

Narrator: And then, Tyler was gone.

Marla Singer: You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

Richard Chesler: [Reading a piece of paper] The first rule of Fight Club is you don't talk about Fight Club?
Narrator: [Voice-over] I'm half asleep again; I must've left the original in the copy machine.
Richard Chesler: The second rule of Fight Club - is this yours?
Narrator: Huh?
Richard Chesler: Pretend you're me, make a managerial decision: you find this, what would you do?
Narrator: [pauses] Well, I gotta tell you: I'd be very, very careful who you talk to about that, because the person who wrote that... is dangerous.
[Gets up from the chair]
Narrator: [Talking slowly] And this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap, and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might be someone you've known for years. Someone very, very close to you.
Narrator: [Voice-over] Tyler's words coming out of my mouth.
[Snatches the piece of paper from boss' hands]
Narrator: [Voice-over] And I used to be such a nice guy.
Narrator: Or maybe you shouldn't bring me every little piece of trash you happen to pick up.
[Phone rings]
Narrator: [Into phone] Compliance and Liability...?
Marla Singer: My tit's gonna rot off.
Narrator: [to boss] Would you excuse me? I need to take this.

Tyler Durden: Self improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction...

Narrator: What are we doing tonight?
Tyler Durden: Tonight? We make soap.
Narrator: Really.
Tyler Durden: To make soap, first we render fat.

Narrator: Hello?
Tyler Durden: [Eating breakfast cereal] Who is this?
Narrator: Tyler?
Tyler Durden: Who is this?
Narrator: Uh... we met... we met on the airplane. We had the same suitcase. Uh... the clever guy?
Tyler Durden: Oh yeah, right.
[Snickers]
Tyler Durden: Ok?
Narrator: I called a second ago, th - there was no answer, I'm at the payphone...
Tyler Durden: - yeah, I *69ed you, I never pick up my phone.
[Crunch, crunch]
Tyler Durden: So what's up, huh?
Narrator: Uh, well... You're not gonna believe this...

Narrator: I know it seems like I have more than one side sometimes...
Marla Singer: More than one side? You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!

Narrator: I flipped through catalogs and wondered: What kind of dining set defines me as a person?

Narrator: Marla's philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, was that she didn't.

Narrator: I can't get married - I'm a thirty-year-old boy.

Marla Singer: [after taking a bottle of sleeping pills] This isn't a real suicide-thing. This is probably one of those cry-for-help things.

Tyler Durden: Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat. It's not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go! LET GO!

[to the Narrator who has just fired a warning shot into the window of an explosives filled van]
Tyler Durden: WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Ok, you are now firing a gun at your 'imaginary friend' near 400 GALLONS OF NITROGLYCERINE!

Narrator: Deja vu - all over again.

Tyler Durden: I'll bring us through this. As always. I'll carry you - kicking and screaming - and in the end you'll thank me.

Narrator: He was full of pep. Must've had his grande-latte enema.

Narrator: Every evening I died, and every evening I was born again, resurrected.

Narrator: We have just lost cabin pressure.

[about Tyler splicing frames of pornography into family films]
Narrator: So when the snoody cat, and the courageous dog, with the celebrity voices meet for the first time in reel three, that's when you'll catch a flash of Tyler's contribution to the film.
[the audience is watching the film, the pornography flashes for a split second]
Narrator: Nobody knows that they saw it, but they did...
Tyler Durden: A nice, big, cock...
[several audience members look rattled, a little girl is crying]
Narrator: Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.

Tyler Durden: [to club owner] Ahhh... okay, okay, okay, I got it, I got it, I got it. Shit, I lost it.
[Club owner punches Tyler in the face]

Tyler Durden: [to the police chief] Hi. You're going to call off your rigorous investigation. You're going to publicly state that there is no underground group. Or... these guys are going to take your balls. They're going to send one to the New York Times, one to the LA Times press-release style. Look, the people you are after are the people you depend on. We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep. Do not... fuck with us.

Narrator: You're insane.
Tyler Durden: No, you're insane.

Narrator: Bob loved me because he thought my testicles were removed too. Being there, pressed against his tits, ready to cry. This was my vacation... and she ruined *everything*.
Marla Singer: This is cancer right?
Narrator: This chick Marla singer did not have testicular cancer. She was a liar. She had no diseases at all. I had seen her at Free and Clear my blood parasite group Thursdays. Then at Hope, my bi-monthly sickle cell circle. And again at Seize the Day, my tuberculous Friday night. Marla... the big tourist. Her lie reflected my lie. Suddenly I felt nothing. I couldn't cry, so once again I couldn't sleep.

Narrator: Bob had bitch tits.

Narrator: Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us were sleeping, he worked. He had one part time job as a projectionist. See, a movie doesn't come all on one big reel. It comes on a few. So someone has to be there to switch the projectors at the exact moment that one reel ends and the next one begins. If you look for it, you can see these little dots come into the upper right-hand corner of the screen.
Tyler Durden: In the industry, we call them "cigarette burns."
Narrator: That's the cue for a changeover. He flips the projectors, the movie keeps right on going, and nobody in the audience has any idea.
Tyler Durden: Why would anyone want this shit job?
Narrator: Because it affords him other interesting opportunities.
Tyler Durden: Like splicing single frames of pornography into family films.

[while narrator is on the phone]
Tyler Durden: Reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions.

Lou: I'm fucking Lou. Who the fuck are you?

Tyler Durden: You're too old, fat man. Your tits are too big.
[Tyler walks away, throwing his cigarette]
Tyler Durden: Get the fuck off my porch.

Narrator: We have front row seats for this theatre of mass destruction. The demolitions committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings with blasting gelatin. In two 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.

Narrator: Tyler, I'm grateful to you; for everything that you've done for me. But this is too much. I don't want this.
Tyler Durden: What do you want? Wanna go back to the shit job, fuckin' condo world, watching sitcoms? Fuck you, I won't do it.

[the Narrator's apartment has just been blown to pieces]
Narrator: I had it all. I had a stereo that was very decent, a wardrobe that was getting very respectable. I was close to being complete.
Tyler Durden: Shit man, now it's all gone.

Narrator: Clean food, please.
Waiter: In that case, sir, may I advise against the lady eating clam chowder?
Narrator: No clam chowder, thank you.

Marla Singer: Listen. I tried Tyler. I really tried. There are things about you that I like, you're smart, you're funny, you're spectacular in bed. But you are intolerable. You have serious emotional problems, deep seated problems for which you should seek professional help.

Narrator: By the end of the first month, I didn't miss TV.

Tyler Durden: Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?
Narrator: [with Tyler's gun in his mouth] mm mm mm mm mm mmmmmm.
[Tyler removes the gun]
Narrator: I still can't think of anything.
Tyler Durden: Ah. Flashback humor.

Narrator: [on phone with Marla] Marla, did we ever have sex?
Marla Singer: What? Do you mean did I think we were just having sex or making love?
Narrator: Marla just answer the question. Did we ever have sex.
Marla Singer: Ok. You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me. You show me a sensitive side, then you turn into a total asshole. Is this a pretty accurate description of our relationship, Tyler?
Narrator: Wait. What did you just call me?
Marla Singer: Tyler. Tyler Durden. Tyler Durden, you crazy fuck!

Narrator: If I didn't say anything, people always assumed the worst.

Narrator: I wasn't really dying. I wasn't host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around.

Narrator: Most of the week we were Ozzie and Harriet, but every Saturday night we were finding something out: we were finding out more and more that we were not alone. It used to be that when I came home angry and depressed I'd just clean my condo, polish my Scandinavian furniture. I should have been looking for a new condo. I should have been haggling with my insurance company. I should have been upset about my nice, neat, flaming little shit. But I wasn't.

[after beating an 'applicant' with a broom]
Narrator: I'm gonna go inside and I'm gonna get a shovel.

Tyler Durden: Just tell him you fuckin' did it. Tell him you blew it all up. That's what he wants to hear.

Marla Singer: I've been going to Debtor's Anonymous. You want to see some really fucked-up people...

Narrator: You're making a big mistake, fellas!
Police Officer: You said you would say that.
Narrator: I'm not Tyler Durden!
Police Officer: You told us you'd say that, too.
Narrator: All right then, I'm Tyler Durden. Listen to me, I'm giving you a direct order. We're aborting this mission right now.
Police Officer: You said you would definitely say that.

Police Officer: You said that if anyone ever interferes with Project Mayhem, even you, we gotta get his balls.

Narrator: Tyler was now involved in a class action lawsuit against the Pressman Hotel over the urine content of their soup.

Tyler Durden: We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.

Narrator: Home was a condo on the fifteenth floor of a filing cabinet for widows and young professionals. The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when your next-door neighbor lets their hearing aid go and have to watch game-shows at full volume. Or when a volcanic blast of debris that used to be your furniture and personal effects blows out of your floor-to-ceiling windows and sails flaming into the night. I suppose these things happen.

Narrator: You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.

Richard Chesler: Get the fuck out of here, you're fired!
Narrator: I have a better solution. You keep me on the payroll as an outside consultant and in exchange for my salary, my job will be never to tell people these things that I know. I don't even have to come into the office, I can do this job from home.

Narrator: It's just, when you buy furniture, you tell yourself, that's it. That's the last sofa I'm gonna need. Whatever else happens, I've got that sofa problem handled.

[after giving Marla a breast exam]
Marla Singer: I wish I could return the favor.
Narrator: There's not a lot of breast cancer in the men in my family.
Marla Singer: I could check your prostate.

Narrator: When deep space exploration ramps up, it'll be the corporations that name everything, the IBM Stellar Sphere, the Microsoft Galaxy, Planet Starbucks.

Tyler Durden: Well you did lose a lot of versatile solutions for modern living

Narrator: Bob is dead, they shot him in the head!
Tyler Durden: You wanna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs.

Narrator: It's called a changeover. The movie goes on, and nobody in the audience has any idea.

Tyler Durden: Now why would you want to put a gun to your head?
Narrator: Not my head, Tyler. Our head.

Tyler Durden: [the Narrator places the gun under his chin and cocks back the hammer] Now why would you want to go and blow your head off?
Narrator: Not my head, Tyler, *our* head.

Tyler Durden: [the Narrator is trying to disarm a car bomb of nitroglycerin] You don't know which wire to pull.
Narrator: I know everything you do, so if you know I know.
Tyler Durden: Or maybe, since I knew you'd know I spent all days thinking about the wrong wires.
[Narrator pauses]

Narrator: I want you to listen to me very carefully, Tyler.
Tyler Durden: Okay...
Narrator: My eyes are open.
[the Narrator puts the gun into his mouth and pulls trigger]

Doctor: You wanna see pain? Swing by First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the guys with testicular cancer. That's pain.

Tyler Durden: We are all part of the same compost heap.

Tyler Durden: Now, ancient people found their clothes got cleaner if they washed them at a certain spot in the river. You know why?
Narrator: No.
Tyler Durden: Human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Bodies burnt, water speeded through the wood ashes to create lye.
[holds up a bottle]
Tyler Durden: This is lye - the crucial ingredient. The lye combined with the melted fat of the bodies, till a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river. May I see your hand, please?
[Tyler licks his lips until they're gleaming wet - he takes the Narrator's hand and kisses the back of it]
Narrator: What is this?
Tyler Durden: This...
[pours the lye on the Narrator's hand]
Tyler Durden: ... is chemical burn.

Ricky: [to Bob, while interviewing for applicants] You're too old fat man.
[to Angel Face]
Ricky: And you, you are too fucking... *blonde*!

Narrator: Tyler's not here. Tyler went away. Tyler's gone.

Narrator: Fuck you! Fuck Fight Club! Fuck Marla! I am sick of all your shit!

Narrator: You're fucking Marla, Tyler.
Tyler Durden: Uh, technically, you're fucking Marla, but it's all the same to her.

Tyler Durden: Something on your mind, Dear?

Angel Face: Bury him in the garden. Come on people, let's go!
Narrator: Get away from him! Get the fuck away!
Angel Face: He was killed serving Project Mayhem, sir.
Narrator: This is Bob. He was a decent man and we're not gonna bury him in the fucking garden!

Narrator: A house full of condiments and no food... how embarrassing.

Ricky: I can't believe he's still standing.
Thomas: One tough motherfucker.

Tyler Durden: This is a chemical burn. It will hurt more than you've ever been burned before. You will have a scar.

Narrator: I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of... wherever.

Tyler Durden: If you could fight anyone, who would you fight?
Narrator: I'd fight my boss, prob'ly.
Tyler Durden: Really.
Narrator: Yeah, why, who would you fight?
Tyler Durden: I'd fight my dad.
Narrator: I don't know my dad. I mean, I know him, but... he left when I was like six years old. Married this other woman, had some other kids. He like did this every six years, he goes to a new city and starts a new family.
Tyler Durden: Fucker's setting up franchises.

Angel Face: [the Narrator is about to look at some files but Angel Face stops him] Don't worry. It's all taken care of, sir.

Tyler Durden: Warning: If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all that claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think every thing you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told to want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned- Tyler.

Narrator: When the fight was over, nothing was solved, but nothing mattered. We all felt saved.

Narrator: [voiceover] It must've been Tuesday. He was wearing his cornflower-blue tie.

Narrator: [as he holds a gun to his mouth] Do something for me.
Tyler Durden: What?
Narrator: Appreciate something.
Tyler Durden: What?
Narrator: Look at me...
Tyler Durden: What?
Narrator: My eyes are open.

Narrator: If you could be either God's worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose? We're the middle children of history, we have no special purpose or place, and unless we get God's attention, we have no hope of damnation or redemption. Which is worse, hell or nothing? Burn the museums, wipe your ass with the Mona Lisa. This way, at least God will know your name.

Narrator: Like so many others, I had become a slave to the Ikea nesting instinct.

Tyler Durden: My dad never went to college, so it was real important that I go.
Narrator: Sounds familiar.
Tyler Durden: So I graduate, I call him up long distance, I say "Dad, now what?" He says, "Get a job."
Narrator: Same here.
Tyler Durden: Now I'm 25, make my yearly call again. I say Dad, "Now what?" He says, "I don't know, get married."
Narrator: I can't get married, I'm a 30 year old boy.
Tyler Durden: We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.

Narrator: I’ve found a new one. For men *only*.
Marla Singer: Oh, is it a testicle thing?

Narrator: With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away, everything's a copy

Narrator: What do you do?
Tyler Durden: What do you mean?
Narrator: What do you do for a living?
Tyler Durden: Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?

Narrator: Why wasn't I told about Project Mayhem?
Tyler Durden: What are you talking about?
Narrator: Why didn't you include me, in the beginning?
Tyler Durden: Fight Club *was* the beginning.

Memorable quotes for Fight Club Part 1

Narrator: You wake up at Seatac, SFO, LAX. You wake up at O'Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, BWI. Pacific, mountain, central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time. You wake up at Air Harbor International. If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

Narrator: This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

Lou: [Lou hits Tyler in the face] Do you hear me now?
Tyler Durden: No I didn't quite catch that Lou.
[Lou hits Tyler again]
Tyler Durden: Still not getting it.
[Lou hits Tyler a few more times]
Tyler Durden: Ok, I got it. Shit I lost it.
[Lou continues to beat up Tyler]

Tyler Durden: Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may.

Tyler Durden: Fight Club was the beginning, now it's moved out of the basement, it's called Project Mayhem.

Tyler Durden: Only after disaster can we be resurrected.

Narrator: [Tyler steers the car into the opposite lane and accelerates] What are you doing?
Tyler Durden: Guys, what would you wish you'd done before you died?
Steph: Paint a self-portrait.
The Mechanic: Build a house.
Tyler Durden: [to Narrator] And you?
Narrator: I don't know. Turn the wheel now, come on!
Tyler Durden: You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
Narrator: I don't know, I wouldn't feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler Durden: Not good enough.

Tyler Durden: Now, a question of etiquette - as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch?

Tyler Durden: [whispering] Tell him the liberator who destroyed my property has realigned my perception.

Tyler Durden: Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Raymond K. Hessel's life. His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted.

Tyler Durden: Hey, you created me. I didn't create some loser alter-ego to make myself feel better. Take some responsibility!

[first lines]
[Tyler points a gun into the Narrator's mouth]
Narrator: [voiceover] People are always asking me if I know Tyler Durden.
Tyler Durden: Three minutes. This is it - ground zero. Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?
Narrator: ...i... ann... iinn... ff... nnyin...
Narrator: [voiceover] With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.
[Tyler removes the gun from the Narrator's mouth]
Narrator: I can't think of anything.
Narrator: [voiceover] For a second I totally forgot about Tyler's whole controlled demolition thing and I wonder how clean that gun is.

Tyler Durden: Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?
Narrator: mumbles...
Tyler Durden: I'm sorry...
Narrator: I still can't think of anything.
Tyler Durden: Ah... flashback humor.

Narrator: This is crazy...
Tyler Durden: People do it everyday, they talk to themselves... they see themselves as they'd like to be, they don't have the courage you have, to just run with it.

Tyler Durden: Did you know if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?
Narrator: No. I did not know that. Is that true?
Tyler Durden: That's right; one can make all kinds of explosives using simple household items...
Narrator: Really?
Tyler Durden: If one were so inclined.

Tyler Durden: Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So be it!
Narrator: OK. Give me some water!
Tyler Durden: Listen, you can run water over your hand and make it worse or...
[shouts]
Tyler Durden: look at me... or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn.
Narrator: Please let me have it... *Please*!
Tyler Durden: First you have to give up, first you have to *know*... not fear... *know*... that someday you're gonna die.

Tyler Durden: All right, if the applicant is young, tell him he's too young. Old, too old. Fat, too fat. If the applicant then waits for three days without food, shelter, or encouragement he may then enter and begin his training.

Narrator: We have front row seats for this theater of mass destruction. The demolition committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings with blasting gelatin. In two 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.

Robert 'Bob' Paulson: Go ahead, Cornelius, you can cry.

Marla Singer: Candy-stripe a cancer ward. It's not my problem.

Tyler Durden: [pointing at an emergency instruction manual on a plane] You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?
Narrator: So you can breath.
Tyler Durden: Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It's all right here. Emergency water landing - 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.
Narrator: That's, um... That's an interesting theory.

Marla Singer: I've got a stomachful of Xanax. I took what was left of a bottle. It might have been too much.

Marla Singer: Your whacked out bald freaks hit me with a fucking broom! They almost broke my arm! They we're burning their fingertips with lye, the stink was unbelievable!

Tyler Durden: It's getting exciting now, 2 and 1/2. Think of everything we've accomplished, man. Out these windows, we will view the collapse of financial history. One step closer to economic equilibrium.

Narrator: Tyler, what the fuck is going on here?
Tyler Durden: I ask you for one thing, one simple thing.
Narrator: Why do people think that I'm you? Answer me!
Tyler Durden: Sit.
Narrator: Now answer me, why do people think that I'm you.
Tyler Durden: I think you know.
Narrator: No, I don't.
Tyler Durden: Yes, you do. Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?
Narrator: Uh... I... I don't know.
[Random flashbacks]
Tyler Durden: You got it.
Narrator: No.
Tyler Durden: Say it.
Narrator: Because...
Tyler Durden: Say it.
Narrator: Because we're the same person.
Tyler Durden: That's right.

[after vigorous sex with Tyler Durden]
Marla Singer: My God. I haven't been fucked like that since grade school.

Narrator: I am Jack's smirking revenge.

Tyler Durden: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing 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. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.

Narrator: First person that comes out this fucking door gets a... gets a *lead salad*, you understand?

Tyler Durden: All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.

Narrator: [V.O] This is Bob. Bob had bitch tits.
[Camera pans to a REMAINING MEN TOGETHER sign]
Narrator: [V.O] This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosie slobbering all over me... that was Bob.
Robert 'Bob' Paulson: We're still men.
Narrator: [slightly muffled due to Bob's enormous breasts] Yes, we're men. Men is what we are.
Narrator: [V.O] Eight 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...
Robert 'Bob' Paulson: They're gonna have to open my pecs again to drain the fluid.
Narrator: [V.O] Between those huge sweating tits that hung enormous, the way you'd think of God's as big.

Tyler Durden: It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

Tyler Durden: [his last words] What's that smell?

Richard Chesler: Is that your blood?
Narrator: Some of it, yeah.

Narrator: Oh, it's late. Hey, thanks for the beer.
Tyler Durden: Yeah, man.
Narrator: I should find a hotel.
Tyler Durden: [in disbelief] What?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: A hotel?
Narrator: Yeah.
Tyler Durden: Just ask, man.
Narrator: What are you talking about?
Tyler Durden: [laughs] Three pitchers of beer, and you still can't ask.
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: You call me because you need a place to stay.
Narrator: Oh, hey, no, no, no, I didn't mean...
Tyler Durden: Yes, you did. So just ask. Cut the foreplay and just ask.
Narrator: Would - would that be a problem?
Tyler Durden: Is it a problem for you to ask?
Narrator: Can I stay at your place?
Tyler Durden: Yeah.

Tyler Durden: In the world I see - you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.

Tyler Durden: Where'd you go psycho boy?
Narrator: I felt like destroying something beautiful.

Tyler Durden: You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

Narrator: When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake.

Tyler Durden: Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

Narrator: On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

Tyler Durden: The first rule of Fight Club is - you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is - you DO NOT talk about Fight Club. Third rule of Fight Club, someone yells Stop!, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over. Fourth rule, only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule, one fight at a time, fellas. Sixth rule, no shirt, no shoes. Seventh rule, fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule, if this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight.

Narrator: [about the soap] Tyler sold his soap to department stores at $20 a bar. Lord knows what they charged. It was beautiful. We were selling rich women their own fat asses back to them.

Narrator: When people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of just...
Marla Singer: - instead of just waiting for their turn to speak?

[after meeting and having sex with Marla]
Tyler Durden: Man, you've got some fucked up friends, I'm tellin' ya. Limber, though...

Tyler Durden: The things you own end up owning you.

Narrator: Well, what do you want me to do? You just want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: C'mon, do me this one favor.
Narrator: Why?
Tyler Durden: Why? I don't know why; I don't know. Never been in a fight. You?
Narrator: No, but that's a good thing.
Tyler Durden: No, it is not. How much can you know about yourself, you've never been in a fight? I don't wanna die without any scars. So come on; hit me before I lose my nerve.
Narrator: This is crazy.
Tyler Durden: So go crazy. Let 'er rip.
Narrator: I don't know about this.
Tyler Durden: I don't either. Who gives a shit? No one's watching. What do you care?
Narrator: Whoa, wait, this is crazy. You want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: That's right.
Narrator: What, like in the face?
Tyler Durden: Surprise me.
Narrator: This is so fucking stupid...
[Narrator swings, connects against Tyler's head]
Tyler Durden: Motherfucker! You hit me in the ear!
Narrator: Well, Jesus, I'm sorry.
Tyler Durden: Ow, Christ... why the ear, man?
Narrator: Guess I fucked it up...
Tyler Durden: No, that was perfect!

Narrator: [to Tyler, while looking at a Calvin Klein-esque ad on the bus] Is that what a real man is supposed to look like?

Narrator: [being embraced by Bob at the group therapy session for Testicular Cancer] Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one.

Tyler Durden: God Damn! We just had a near-life experience, fellas.

[Tyler and Jack stand in the bathroom doorway, watching Steph finish shaving off all of his hair. Tyler comes to give the top of Steph's head a sharp slap]
Tyler Durden: Like a monkey, ready to be shot into space. Space monkey! Ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good.
Tyler Durden: From now on, all those with shaved heads: "Space Monkeys".

[Tyler and Narrator are discussing ideal opponents]
Tyler Durden: OK: any historic figure.
Narrator: I'd fight Gandhi.
Tyler Durden: Good answer.
Narrator: How about you?
Tyler Durden: Lincoln.
Narrator: Lincoln?
Tyler Durden: Big guy, big reach. Skinny guys fight 'til they're burger.

Narrator: A new car built by my company leaves somewhere traveling at 60 mph. The rear differential locks up. The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now, should we initiate a recall? Take the number of vehicles in the field, A, multiply by the probable rate of failure, B, multiply by the average out-of-court settlement, C. A times B times C equals X. If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one.
Business woman on plane: Are there a lot of these kinds of accidents?
Narrator: You wouldn't believe.
Business woman on plane: Which car company do you work for?
Narrator: A major one.

Tyler Durden: Did you know that if you mix equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?
Narrator: No, I did not know that; is that true?
Tyler Durden: That's right... One could make all kinds of explosives, using simple household items.
Narrator: Really...?
Tyler Durden: If one were so inclined.
Narrator: Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I've ever met... see I have this thing: everything on a plane is single-serving...
Tyler Durden: Oh I get it, it's very clever.
Narrator: Thank you.
Tyler Durden: How's that working out for you?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: Being clever.
Narrator: Great.
Tyler Durden: Keep it up then... Right up.
[Gets up from airplane seat]
Tyler Durden: Now a question of etiquette; as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch...?

Tyler Durden: You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.

[while burning the Narrator's hand with lye]
Tyler Durden: Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?
Narrator: No, no, I... don't...
Tyler Durden: Listen to me! You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen.
Narrator: It isn't?
Tyler Durden: We don't need him!

First Man at Auto Shop: Here's where the infant's head went through the wind-shield. Three points.
Man #2 at Auto Shop: The teenagers braces are still wrapped around the backseat ashtray. Might make a good anti-smoking ad.
First Man at Auto Shop: The driver must have been huge, see where the fat burned to the seat? The polyester shirt? Very modern art.
[they laugh]

Marla Singer: There are things about you that I like. You're smart, you're funny, you're... spectacular in bed... But you're intolerable! You have very serious emotional problems. Deep seated problems for which you should seek professional help.
Narrator: I know, and I'm sorry...
Marla Singer: Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry, everybody's sorry, but... I can't do this anymore. I can't. And I won't. I'm gone.

Tyler Durden: Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

Narrator: I am Jack's cold sweat.

[Holding up a wad of cash]
Marla Singer: You're not getting this back. I consider it asshole tax.

Narrator: If I did have a tumor, I'd name it Marla.

[meeting aboard an airliner]
Narrator: What do you do for a living?
Tyler Durden: Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?

Narrator: He was *the* guerilla terrorist in the food service industry.
[the Narrator looks at Tyler, who's urinating in a pot]
Tyler Durden: Do not watch. I cannot go when you watch.
Narrator: Apart from seasoning the lobster bisque, he farted on the meringue, sneezed on braised endive, and as for the cream of mushroom soup, well...
Tyler Durden: [snickers] Go ahead. Tell 'em.
Narrator: ...you get the idea.

Narrator: I am Jack's raging bile duct.

Narrator: Oh, yeah, Chloe... Chloe looked the way Meryl Streep's skeleton would look if you made it smile and walk around the party being extra nice to everybody.
Chloe: Well, I'm still here. But I don't know for how long. That's as much certainty as anyone can give me. But I've got some good news: I no longer have any fear of death. But... I am in a pretty lonely place. No-one will have sex with me. I'm so close to the end and all I want is to get laid for the last time. I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants, and amyl nitrite...
[the group leader takes the mic]
Group Leader: Thank you, Chloe... everyone, let's thank Chloe.

Narrator: A guy who came to Fight Club for the first time, his ass was a wad of cookie dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood.

Narrator: I ran. I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I ran some more.

Narrator: After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down.

Narrator: If you wake up at a different time in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

Tyler Durden: Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing. Like the first monkey shot into space.

Narrator: And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

Tyler Durden: Do you know what a duvee is?
Narrator: It's a comforter...
Tyler Durden: It's a blanket. Just a blanket. Now why do guys like you and me know what a duvee is? Is this essential to our survival, in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we then?
Narrator: ...Consumers?
Tyler Durden: Right. We are consumers. We're the bi-products of a lifestyle obsession.

Narrator: [while brutally beating Angel Face] I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all the French beaches I'd never see. I wanted to breathe smoke.

Narrator: [reading] I am Jack's colon.
Tyler Durden: I get cancer, I kill Jack.

[after deliberately crashing the car on the side of the road]
Tyler Durden: Goddamn!
[Histerical laughs]
Tyler Durden: You just had a near-life experience!

Narrator: Everywhere I travel, tiny life. Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream, single pat of butter. The microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit. Shampoo-conditioner combos, sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on each flight? They're single-serving friends.

Narrator: I'll tell you: we'll split up the week, okay? You take lymphoma, and tuberculosis...
Marla Singer: You take tuberculosis. My smoking doesn't go over at all.
Narrator: Okay, good, fine. Testicular cancer should be no contest, I think.
Marla Singer: Well, technically, I have more of a right to be there than you. You still have your balls.
Narrator: You're kidding.
Marla Singer: I don't know... am I?
Narrator: No, no! What do you want?
Marla Singer: I'll take the parasites.
Narrator: You can't have both the parasites, but while you take the blood parasites...
Marla Singer: I want brain parasites.
Narrator: I'll take the blood parasites. But I'm gonna take the organic brain dementia, okay?
Marla Singer: I want that.
Narrator: You can't have the whole brain, that's...
Marla Singer: So far you have four, I only have two!
Narrator: Okay. Take both the parasites. They're yours. Now we both have three...

Narrator: I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.

Tyler Durden: It could be worse. A woman could cut off your penis while you're sleeping and toss it out the window of a moving car.
Narrator: There's always that.

[the narrator pulls a loose tooth out of his mouth]
Narrator: Fuck.
Tyler Durden: Hey, even the Mona Lisa's falling apart.

[about attending support groups for diseases she doesn't have]
Marla Singer: It's cheaper than a movie, and there's free coffee.

Narrator: Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me. That condo was my life, okay? I loved every stick of furniture in that place. That was not just a bunch of stuff that got destroyed, it was ME!
[voice-over]
Narrator: I'd like to thank the Academy...

Narrator: I am Jack's wasted life.

Narrator: I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.

Tyler Durden: Fuck what you know. You need to forget about what you know, that's your problem. Forget about what you think you know about life, about friendship, and especially about you and me.

Narrator: I am Jack's broken heart.

Narrator: Is Tyler my bad dream? Or am I Tyler's?

[last lines]
Narrator: You met me at a very strange time in my life.

Narrator: Life insurance pays off triple if you die on a business trip.

Narrator: Was it ticking?
Airport Security Officer: Actually throwers don't worry about ticking 'cause modern bombs don't tick.
Narrator: Sorry, throwers?
Airport Security Officer: Baggage handlers. But, when a suitcase vibrates, then the throwers gotta call the police.
Narrator: My suitcase was vibrating?
Airport Security Officer: Nine times out of ten it's an electric razor, but every once in a while...
[whispering]
Airport Security Officer: it's a dildo. Of course it's company policy never to, imply ownership in the event of a dildo... always use the indefinite article a dildo, never your dildo.
Narrator: I don't own...
[Officer waves Narrator off]

Narrator: With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.

Narrator: Fight club wasn't about winning or losing. It wasn't about words. The hysterical shouting was in tongues, like at a Pentecostal Church.

Narrator: I got in everyone's hostile little face. Yes, these are bruises from fighting. Yes, I'm comfortable with that. I am enlightened.

Tyler Durden: The salt balance has to be just right, so the best fat for making soap comes from humans.
Narrator: Wait. What is this place?
Tyler Durden: A liposuction clinic.

Narrator: Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My parents pulled this exact same act for years.