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[metatheurgist]

Hush. It's the inability to talk that makes it so special. Without words getting in the way so much more can be said.

[Isichar]

Darkness, Lili (weird alert)

Spoiler

 

Roose, Ramsay, Theon

Spoiler

 

The Hound, Arya Stark

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRY4Mpmfk1o

 

I really like all 3 of them. Arya and the Hound had a great dynamic. Also reminded me of Arya and Tywin which were great together too.

[Chewin]

Well there are a countless of conversations that I find to be intriguing in different ways that touches upon different things. But in light of Christmas spirit, something from Discworld comes to mind, namely Hogfather to be precise:



In essence, it is about morality, and that all these things; truth, justice, and mercy, are fundamentally all human concepts. Humans created them and they only exist in our heads. As Neil DeGrasse Tyson accurately put; We created them to let the universe make sense to us, but the universe is under no obligation to do so in our favor. All these things--the concepts--are things that we created to make some kind of order out of the chaos of the universe. Things just exist, neither good nor bad. When it comes to morality, humans are the only ones who judges what is right and wrong.

Truth be told, Terry Pratcher's works are filled with some thoughtful topics. Certainly an intriguing read.

[Chewin]

F*ck me, how the hell did I forget about everything that LOGH delves into!?

Gonna commit seppuku right now.

[Chewin]

There are a lot more in my "favourites" but I have no problem in putting Yang at the top of them all.

Sim's favorite conversation:

Every time Yang says "yare yare" to everything.

[Kaiser Arian XVII]

I've heard "yare yare" many times in LOGH. Yang's old commander said it emotionally better as I remember.

[CrazyRah]

Well sh*t...

 

Took me thing long to read CONVERSATIONS and not CHARACTERS.

 

Well...

 

Err...

 

Yeah.

 

I'm gonna think about this one.

 

Yare yare bro!

[EarthboundNess]

 

[Isichar]

Do you even need to ask?

 

Considering I got this thread idea after us talking about banter and good conversations in regards to LotGH I'd say I know

[Isichar]

Oh jeeze Earthbound just reminded me of one of the best ones I've seen in ages... I can't believe I forgot this since it's probably the only thing that I felt made these movies worth watching for me!

 

Smeagol and Bilbo I seriously freaking adored this part despite thinking the rest of the movie was kind of meh

Just a part of the conversation but I'm sure most of you guys have seen it already so you get the idea.

[Jeremiah12LGeek]

 

Pretty much all the conversations with Legion in that movie (Exorcist III.)

[Jeremiah12LGeek]

[Han Shot First]

More of a monologue than a conversation, but my favorite would be Septon Meribald's response to Podrick asking whether the Broken Men were outlaws. For those unfamiliar with A Song of Ice and Fire (the book series Game of Thrones is based on), a Septon is a kind of monk and the Broken Men are deserters from the various warring armies of the Seven Kingdoms who have turned to banditry.

 

 

 

 

“Ser? My lady?” said Podrick. “Is a broken man an outlaw?”

 

“More or less,” Brienne answered.

 

Septon Meribald disagreed. “More less than more. There are many sorts of outlaws, just as there are many sorts of birds. A sandpiper and a sea eagle both have wings, but they are not the same. The singers love to sing of good men forced to go outside the law to fight some wicked lord, but most outlaws are more like this ravening Hound than they are the lightning lord. They are evil men, driven by greed, soured by malice, despising the gods and caring only for themselves. Broken men are more deserving of our pity, though they may be just as dangerous. Almost all are common-born, simple folk who had never been more than a mile from the house where they were born until the day some lord came round to take them off to war. Poorly shod and poorly clad, they march away beneath his banners, ofttimes with no better arms than a sickle or a sharpened hoe, or a maul they made themselves by lashing a stone to a stick with strips of hide. Brothers march with brothers, sons with fathers, friends with friends. They’ve heard the songs and stories, so they go off with eager hearts, dreaming of the wonders they will see, of the wealth and glory they will win. War seems a fine adventure, the greatest most of them will ever know.

 

“Then they get a taste of battle.

 

“For some, that one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years, until they lose count of al the battles they have fought in, but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first. Brothers watch their brothers die, fathers lose their sons, friends see their friends trying to hold their entrails in after they’ve been gutted by an axe.

 

“They see the lord who led them there cut down, and some other lord shouts that they are his now. They take a wound, and when that’s still half-healed they take another. There is never enough to eat, their shoes fall to pieces from the marching, their clothes are torn and rotting, and half of them are sh1ting in their breeches from drinking bad water.

 

“If they want new boots or a warmer cloak or maybe a rusted iron halfhelm, they need to take them from a corpse, and before long they are stealing from the living too, from the small folk whose lands they’re fighting in, men very like the men they used to be. They slaughter their sheep and steal their chickens, and from there it’s just a short step to carrying off their daughters too. And one day they look around and realize all their friends and kin are gone, that they are fighting beside strangers beneath a banner that they hardly recognize. They don’t know where they are or how to get back home and the lord they’re fighting for does not know their names, yet here he comes, shouting for them to form up, to make a line with their spears and scythes and sharpened hoes, to stand their ground. And the knights come down on them, faceless men clad al in steel, and the iron thunder of their charge seems to fill the world...

 

“And the man breaks.

 

“He turns and runs, or crawls off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steals away in the black of night, and he finds someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to him than a haunch of spoiled meat that will let him live another day, or a skin of bad wine that might drown his fear for a few hours. The broken man lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than man. Lady Brienne is not wrong. In times like these, the traveler must beware of broken men, and fear them... but he should pity them as well.”

 

When Meribald was finished a profound silence fell upon their little band. Brienne could hear the wind rustling through a clump of pvssywillows, and farther off the faint cry of a loon. She could hear Dog panting softly as he loped along beside the septon and his donkey, tongue lolling from his mouth. The quiet stretched and stretched, until finally she said, “How old were you when they marched you off to war?”

 

“Why, no older than your boy,” Meribald replied. “Too young for such, in truth, but my brothers were all going, and I would not be left behind. William said I could be his squire, though Will was no knight, only a potboy armed with a kitchen knife he’d stolen from the inn. He died upon the Stepstones, and never struck a blow. It was fever did for him, and for my brother Robin. Owen died from a mace that split his head apart, and his friend Jon Pox was hanged for rape.”

 

“The War of the Ninepenny Kings?” asked Hyle Hunt.

 

“So they called it, though I never saw a king, nor earned a penny. It was a war, though. That it was.”

[Cknarf]

"Holiest of holeys"

[Jorji Costava]

The dialogue that sticks out most for me right now is the whole Ferris wheel sequence from The Third Man (here's the most famous bit from it). Beyond that, a few other small exchanges come to mind:

 

From Return of the Jedi:

Han: How we doin'?

Luke: Same as always.

Han: That bad, huh?

 

From Casablanca:

Rick: How can you close me up? On what grounds?
Captain Renault: I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!
[a croupier hands Renault a pile of money]
Croupier: Your winnings, sir.
Captain Renault: Oh, thank you very much.

 

From Paths of Glory:

Corporal Paris: See that cockroach? Tomorrow morning, we'll be dead and it'll be alive. It'll have more contact with my wife and child than I will. I'll be nothing, and it'll be alive.
[Ferol smashes the roach]
Private Ferol: Now you got the edge on him.

[Aimi]

An excerpt from Caine's Law, by Matthew Stover:

Spoiler

He lowers himself to the snow on Duncan's other side. "Do you understand what's happening? What this place is, and what you're doing here?"

Duncan frowns up at the hilt of the black sword. He feels the beat of his riven heart against the metal. "Well, I'm pretty sure it's not Kansas."

"Can I just mention here how f***ing tired I am of that joke?"

"Then you shouldn't use it so often." Duncan shrugs. "Some sort of shamanic dream quest or journey, I suppose. Except I can't actually journey until somebody pulls the sword out of my chest."

"That's the idea."

"What is this sword?"

"It's a metaphor."

"I gathered that. A metaphor for what?"

"Another sword."

"Oh, come on."

"Hey, it's not like I make this s**t up. It is what it is. Just like everything else."

"This other sword," Duncan says patiently. "Is it a metaphor too?"

"Since you ask, yeah."

"For what?"

Caine says, "Me."

"I'm sorry?"

"I know."

"No, I mean - there's a sword that's a metaphor for you?"

"Sometimes it's the other way around."

"You do understand what language is used for, don't you?"

"See? You're doing it again. You use words, but assign no content specific enough to be meaningful. How many times do I have to tell you this? What are words once abstracted from their meaning?"

Caine shrugs. "Music."

Duncan opens his mouth for a biting reply, then closes it again. "You've been saving that one."

"Like you said, you've had this conversation before. So have I." He draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. "My father told me once that a powerful-enough metaphor grows its own truth."

From The Thick of It: Spinners and Losers:

MALCOLM TUCKER: ...the thing is, Geoff, you're going to waste everybody's time.
GEOFF HOLHURST MP: I'm not standing, Malcolm. I'm trying to start a debate, you know - a policy debate, about the future direction of the party and of the government.
MALCOLM: [ignoring him] Because firstly, you've got no credentials. You're so backbench you've actually f***ing fallen off. You're out by the f***ing bins where I put you.
GEOFF: [interrupting] Hello, are you listening to me? I'm not standing.
MALCOLM: [still ignoring him] Secondly, I'm going to tell the Mirror about all the drinking.
GEOFF: [laughs] I'm not drinking.
MALCOLM: [hasn't stopped ignoring him] And thirdly, I'm going to tell the Mail about the affair.
GEOFF: ...
MALCOLM: And fourthly, you've got a tiny head.
GEOFF: No I haven't!
MALCOLM: Yes, you have! It's out of proportion. Everybody mentions it.
GEOFF: Look, see, I'm not -
MALCOLM: See, you're shaking it, and I can hardly see it move. Are you shaking it now? Are you shaking it now? I can't tell.
GEOFF: Look, I'm not standing, okay? My head is the right size, all right?
MALCOLM: It is very petite. So you're not standing, right?
GEOFF: No.
MALCOLM: You will not stand against Tom.
GEOFF: I've said, I've bloody said!
MALCOLM: Okay. Thank you, Geoff. Let's go, arrive-f***ing-derci.
GEOFF: [shakes hand, goes to leave] ...yeah.
MALCOLM: Let's have lunch sometime, yeah? We'll have a tête-a-tiny-tête.
GEOFF: [walks away] Jesus.