Ewok Quotes

He had them as spellbound as a room full of Ewoks listening to C-3PO.

Let's get started. Who's first?" "His name is Kettch, and he's an Ewok." Wedge came upright. "No." "Oh, yes. Determined to fight. You should hear him say, 'Yub, yub.' He makes it a battle cry." "Wes, assuming he could be educated up to Alliance fighter-pilot standards, an Ewok couldn't even reach an X-wing's controls." "He wears arm and leg extensions, prosthetics built for him by a sympathetic medical droid. And he's anxious to go, Commander." "Please tell me you're kidding." "Of course I'm kidding." (...) "I'm going to get you, Janson." "Yub, yub, Commander.

After watching Star Wars everyone wanted a lightsaber and was irritated that the technology for them didn’t really exist. Everyone also agreed the Ewoks should all die.

Then, unprompted, Henry says into the stretching stillness, “Return of the Jedi.” A beat. “What?” “To answer your question,” Henry says. “Yes, I do like Star Wars, and my favorite is Return of the Jedi.” “Oh,” Alex says. “Wow, you’re wrong.” Henry huffs out the tiniest, most poshly indignant puff of air. It smells minty. Alex resists the urge to throw another elbow. “How can I be wrong about my own favorite? It’s a personal truth.” “It’s a personal truth that is wrong and bad.” “Which do you prefer, then? Please show me the error of my ways.” “Okay, Empire.” Henry sniffs. “So dark, though.” “Yeah, which is what makes it good,” Alex says. “It’s the most thematically complex. It’s got the Han and Leia kiss in it, you meet Yoda, Han is at the top of his game, fucking Lando Calrissian, and the best twist in cinematic history. What does Jedi have? Fuckin’ Ewoks.” “Ewoks are iconic.” “Ewoks are stupid.” “But Endor.” “But Hoth. There’s a reason people always call the best, grittiest installment of a trilogy the Empire of the series.” “And I can appreciate that. But isn’t there something to be valued in a happy ending as well?” “Spoken like a true Prince Charming.” “I’m only saying, I like the resolution of Jedi. It ties everything up nicely. And the overall theme you’re intended to take away from the films is hope and love and … er, you know, all that. Which is what Jedi leaves you with a sense of most of all.

His name is Kettch, and he's an Ewok." "No." "Oh, yes. Determined to fight. You should hear him say, 'Yub, yub.' He makes it a battle cry." "Wes, assuming he could be educated up to Alliance fighter-pilot standards, an Ewok couldn't even reach an X-wing's controls." "He wears arm and leg extensions, prosthetics built for him by a sympathetic medical droid. And he's anxious to go, Commander." "Please tell me you're kidding." "Of course I'm kidding. Pilot-candidate number one is a Human female from Tatooine, Falynn Sandskimmer." "I'm going to get you, Janson." "Yub, yub, Commander." ―Wes Janson and Wedge Antilles[src]

Food for the native Ewoks.

Yo mama so hairy people think she's an Ewok.

It was even softer and fluffier than I’d imagined. It was like wearing an Ewok.

What do you get when you cross an Astromech and a Ewok? A short circuit!

After watching Star Wars everyone wanted a lightsaber and was irritated that the technology for them didn’t really exist. Everyone also agreed the Ewoks should all die. Two

Sir, it appears the Ewoks have discovered that you intend to have a celebration? Without them?

Says you, assface. It has some great moments.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “It doesn’t. It’s even worse than that first Ewok flick, Caravan of Courage. They shoulda called it Caravan of Suck.

Sequels are either too bloated, too stuffed with B-team actors or characters or Ewoks - things that weren't good enough for the original. A cash grab to profit off something that was probably a fluke in the first place.

You never change.” Han rubbed a hand through his hair and pulled up closer to the table. “You really don’t.” Lando barked a laugh. “The Jawa calls the Ewok short! And anyway, I’ve changed quite a bit, thank you very much.

When I finally calmed down, I handed her the Ewok. "Can you go back and give it to him" I said. "Oh, honey," she answered. "That's so sweet of you. But Isabel can clean the Lego set. It'll be good as new for Auggie, don't worry." "No, for the other kid," I answered. She looked at me a second, like she didn't know what to say. "Via said he doesn't speak any English," I sai. "It must be really scary for him, being in the hospital." She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she whispered. "It must be." She closed her eyes and hugged me again. And then she took me over to the security desk, where I waited until she went back up the elevator and, after about five minutes, came back down again. "Did he like it?" I asked. "Honeyboy," she said softly, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "You made his day.

Good kid. Eager to please. Joined the Empire because it’s what you did. Not a true believer, not by a long stretch. Not far from him: Captain Blevins. Definitely a true believer. A froth-mouthed braggart and bully, too. His face is a mask of blood. Sinjir is glad that one is dead. Nearby, a young woman: He knows her face from the mess, but not her name, and the insignia rank on her chest has been covered in blood. Whoever she was, she’s nobody now. Mulch for the forest. Food for the native Ewoks.

Yep. Downloaded every single issue from the Hatchery’s archive. Still working my way through ’em. I was just reading this great piece on Ewoks: The Battle for Endor.” “Made for TV. Released in 1985,” I recited. Star Wars trivia was one of my specialties. “Total garbage. A real low point in the history of the Wars.” “Says you, assface. It has some great moments.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “It doesn’t. It’s even worse than that first Ewok flick, Caravan of Courage. They shoulda called it Caravan of Suck.

He staggers through the forest. The burning forest. Bits of brush smoldering. A stormtrooper helmet nearby, charred and half melted. A small fire burns nearby. In the distance, the skeleton of an AT-AT walker. Its top blown open in the blast, peeled open like a metal flower. That burns, too. Bodies all around. Some of them are faceless, nameless. To him, at least. But others, he knows. Or knew. There—the fresh-faced officer, Cerk Lormin. Good kid. Eager to please. Joined the Empire because it’s what you did. Not a true believer, not by a long stretch. Not far from him: Captain Blevins. Definitely a true believer. A froth-mouthed braggart and bully, too. His face is a mask of blood. Sinjir is glad that one is dead. Nearby, a young woman: He knows her face from the mess, but not her name, and the insignia rank on her chest has been covered in blood. Whoever she was, she’s nobody now. Mulch for the forest. Food for the native Ewoks. Just stardust and nothing. We’re all stardust and nothing, he thinks. An absurd thought. But no less absurd than the one that follows: We did this to ourselves. He should blame them. The rebels. Even now he can hear them applauding. Firing blasters into the air. Hicks and yokels. Farm boy warriors and pipe-fitter pilots. Good for them. They deserve their celebration. Just as we deserve our graves.

Tommy, Ewoks suck. They’ve always sucked and they always will suck. Four has Peter Cushing in it. If in doubt, always go with a film that has Peter Cushing in it.” Petra appeared to be very smug in her victory. Tommy looked mortified. “But six has Jedi Luke and that awesome bit with the Emperor at the end.” “And Ewoks,” I said. “Who, I’m pretty sure I pointed out, suck.” “And to think I was going to get you your own lightsaber,” Tommy said in mock outrage. Petra’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. “You have your own lightsaber?” Tommy nodded. “Two of them.” “Why?” Kurt asked. “Why do you need a lightsaber? What can you possibly use it for?” “I think the question is,” Tommy said, “why wouldn’t I need a lightsaber? And as for what I can use it for, I use it to look awesome. Really, really awesome.” “You just don’t understand, my dear,” Petra told Kurt. Kurt didn’t appear to want or need to understand anytime soon. “So, you got beat up by some humans and a witch,” Tommy said, barely containing his laughter. “Do you have CCTV?” he asked Petra, who chuckled. “Are you both done?” I asked. They nodded in unison. “This witch used a huge amount of magic on me,” I informed them both. “To use runes to drain my magic is one thing, but an effete curse is a whole other league of power. That’s a decade of her life, right there.” “I don’t understand why anyone would ever use a blood magic curse,” Tommy said. “It’s not like it’s fun for the person casting it either.” “What do you mean?” Petra asked. “There are several different blood magic curses you can cast on another person, and a few you can cast on yourself,” I explained. “All of the curses do various things to the person they’re cast upon, but the caster has to take some of the curse back onto him- or herself. So, in this case, Sarah cast the effete spell, making me exhausted and utterly useless, but a small portion of that will bounce back onto her. How long was I out?” “Six hours,” Kurt said. “If I’d cast that spell, I could have expected maybe three or four hours of exhaustion. Witches are basically human, so she’s going to be about as much use as a chocolate teapot, for the best part of a day. It was a huge decision for her to make.

Bears. We come in all shapes and varieties. Besides your “typical” bear (a hairy, stocky to heavyset man), there are chubs (heavyset men who aren’t necessarily hairy), cubs (young bears or bears who are very young at heart), daddy bears (older guys, sometimes looking for a “daddy/son” relationship with a younger guy or cub—definitely not talking pederasty here), leather bears (bears who like to wear leather), muscle bears (can be very muscular, but they tend not to worry about abs in favor of some nice padding), polar bears (bears whose hair has gone gray/white), panda bears (bears of Asian descent), black bears (bears of African descent), pocket bears (short bears), Ewoks (very short bears), ginger bears (redheaded bears), and grizzly bears (usually much shaggier and taller and sometimes dominant). And then there are otters (hairy guys who are slim)!

I have personally never bought this over-simplistic portrait of the industry, made of Rebel Alliance’s ewoks (small startups) fighting evil stormtroopers (established companies) with bare hands and rocks.

Gyakran gondolunk magunkra önálló és független létezőkként. Úgy hisszük, hogy másoktól elkülönülten létezünk, de ha mélyre pillantunk befelé, rá fogunk döbbenni, hogy kizárólag olyan elemekből épülünk fel, amelyek valójában nem mi magunk vagyunk. A testünk olyan szervekből és részekből áll, amelyek nem mi vagyunk. Még a génjeink is a szüleinktől és az elődeinktől származnak, ráadásul, ha még mélyebbre hatolunk, csupán atomok kavalkádját találjuk. A gondolatainkat kizárólag annak köszönhetjük, amit olvastunk, láttunk és hallottunk, vagyis ami abból a kultúrából származik, amit az iskolában megtanulunk vagy éppen a mozikban láttunk. […] Képzelj el egy endori fából ácsolt asztalt, Tudjuk, hogy a faanyag az erdő fáiból származik. Ezt rögtön felismerjük, amint az asztalra pillantunk. De amit talán nem ismerünk föl, az magának az erőnek, a talajnak, az esőnek, a napnak, a favágónak, a fafeldolgozó üzemnek, az ácsműhelynek és még sok-sok dolognak a léte, amelyek pedig mind elengedhetetlenek az asztalhoz. Miért is gondolnánk minderre? Végül is, az asztal csak egy asztal. De ha nyomon követjük az asztal útját, egész létezését annak gyökeréig, akkor felfedezhetjük mindazokat a dolgokat, amelyek szerepet játszottak a létrejöttében. Még az Endor holdján kifejlődött fa sem volt az asztal igazi kezdete, amelyből kihasították hozzá az anyagot. Az egyedi fa legfeljebb egy önkényesen kijelölt kezdőpont lehet: hiszen maga ez a fa is rendelkezik a saját eredettörténetével, amelynek kezdetei elveszek a végtelen múltban. A fa jó néhány év alatt nőtt magasra és erősre, és ezalatt nem lehetett volna meg levegő, napfény, víz, lebomlott levelek és egyebek nélkül. A levegő, a napfény, a víz, a lebomlott levelek nélkül a fa nem élhetett volna. A fának ugyanis szüksége volt ezekre az elemekre a túléléshez. Így aztán a levegő, a napfény a víz és a lebomlott levelek mind létfontosságúak a fa szempontjából. Elképzelhető, hogy egy ewok is e mellett a fa mellett nőtt föl – ami történetesen a legkedvesebb volt számára –, itt hunyt el és ide temették. Ahogy a teste oszlásnak indult, a húsa szintén tápanyagként szolgált a fa számára, így aztán maga az ewok is a fa részévé vált. Ha elég mélyen pillantunk a fába, megpillanthatjuk benne az ewokot.

The little thing had sat on her lap all through breakfast. Occasionally his head popped up over the table to look at her plate, the tip of his tongue out. He looked like a fluffy Ewok. “His name is Stuntman Mike.

No.I couldn't have.Not with an Ewok-cuddling,Force-feel-ing,Padawan-braid-wearing, lightsaber-rammed-up-his -ass Jedi.

Ewoks. It

By force-marching his exhausted men through the unknown, rain-swept wilderness of the German-infested Teutoburg Forest, this guy had just made a brain-explodingly boneheaded mistake so amazing in its incompetence that it makes the Roman consuls at Cannae look like a conjoined triplet made out of Napoleon Bonaparte, Alexander the Great, and that dude from Total Recall who had the baby coming out of his stomach. In terms of career moves, marching three legions into the Teutoberg was the Classical Age equivalent of coauthoring an academic paper with the Unabomber or asking Charles Manson to write you a letter of recommendation for law school. Unsurprisingly, this came back to bite him in the ass. We don’t know exactly how many Germans were hiding in the woods, watching the column of imperial invaders trudge past. The Germans didn’t bother to write anything down more detailed than “killed sum d00ds 2day lulz,” and the only Romans who managed to run screaming out of this forest alive were the ones who knew better than to sit there and try to count how many GWAR fans were currently trying to brutally dismember them with axes. Let’s just say it was probably a crapload, and that when these long-haired death metal freaks unleashed a bloodcurdling shout and started charging through the forest like a bunch of gigantic mutant Ewok-Wookies ambushing the Imperial Stormtroopers on the Forest Moon of Endor it wasn’t exactly the sort of hilarious laugh riot you might see in an animated GIF involving unicorns, rainbows, and cartoon kitties with Pop-Tarts where their bodies are supposed to be. Bellowing like madmen, these balls-out, frothing-at-the-mouth, beer-swilling sausage fiends went Leeroy Jenkins toward the enemy, blitzkrieging out of the woods from every side seemingly at the same time, their ferociousness magnified not only by their savage blood rage, but by the fact that some of the dudes had taken to painting their entire bodies black with mud to help them hide in the dark forest like how Schwarzenegger hid from the Predator’s infrared vision. It was so damned terrifying that it took every ounce of Roman discipline to not simply spontaneously combust into blood vapor on the spot.

The way Luke, Yoda and Obi Wan kept banging on about their religion, it's obvious they saw it as a holy war.' 'Yeah, but those space teddy bears were cute.' 'Ewoks? Ewoks cook their prisoners and use the helmets of dead Stormtroopers as drums. You call them space teddy bears, I call them war criminals. And another thing. Even though he can backflip and lightsaber duel, Yoda claims he needs to use a walking stick. What's that all about? Apart from

If she scraped her elbows and fell asleep against me, it’d be embalming fluid soaking into my shirt while the Ewoks help thwart the imperial Stormtroopers, the stench of formaldehyde making the last of the popcorn inedible.

The world screamed past me. I lived amongst the Ewok shadows; I groaned misery and shifted as they did. I longed to be part of something again, to be known and accepted, to hear my name. No one ever said my name anymore. I never told anyone who I was for fear of being found out. For what? I didn't know. I'd forgotten years ago.

The chances of him running for president are roughly equal to the chances that Earth will be overrun by Ewoks by Memorial Day,” Mark Sappenfield wrote in the Christian Science Monitor

My naked contempt for vegetarians, sauce-on-siders, the 'lactose-intolerant' and the cooking of the Ewok-like Emeril Lagasse is not going to get me my own show on the Food Network. I don't think I'll be going on ski weekends with Andre Soltner anytime soon or getting a back rub from that hunky Bobby Flay. Eric Ripert won't be calling me for ideas on tomorrow's fish special. But I'm simply not going to deceive anybody about the life as I've seen it.