Indiana Jones 3 Quotes

Henry Jones: I didn't know you could fly a plane! Indiana Jones: Fly -- yes, land -- no.

I made that up. You know Marcus. He got lost once in his own museum.

Indiana Jones and the Middle of Fucking Nowhere, coming never to a theater near you.

Does anyone here speak English? Or even Ancient Greek? — A very lost Marcus Brody

I always find that if I sit down, a solution presents itself!

Now is the time to ask yourself, what you believe.

Only the penitent man will pass...

The old folk from Indiana and Iowa and Illinois, from Boston and Kansas City and Des Moines, they sold their homes and their stores, and they came here by train and by automobile to the land of sunshine, to die in the sun, with just enough money to live until the sun killed them, tore themselves out by the roots in their last days, deserted the smug prosperity of Kansas City and Chicago and Peoria to find a place in the sun. And when they got here they found that other and greater thieves had already taken possession, that even the sun belonged to the others; Smith and Jones and Parker, druggist, banker, baker, dust of Chicago and Cincinnati and Cleveland on their shoes, doomed to die in the sun, a few dollars in the bank, enough to subscribe to the Los Angeles Times, enough to keep alive the illusion that this was paradise, that their little papier-mâché homes were castles.

The wizards from the mid-1990s or later refused to discuss any movies at all for fear of letting slip any details of the Star Wars prequels or the fourth Indiana Jones, a group of works that the later wizards would only refer to by the collective title The Unpleasantness.

A film festival, during which all three Star Wars prequels and the fourth Indiana Jones movie were all screened back to back, in the name of getting it over with.

Indiana Jones was an imperialist grave-robbing sumbitch,” Cindy chimes in from behind Ritter. “I hate those fucking movies.

Eventually, the wizards started sharing information freely, even arranging a film festival, during which all three Star Wars prequels and the fourth Indiana Jones movie were all screened back to back, in the name of getting it over with.

In fact, the wizards from the mid-1990s or later refused to discuss any movies at all for fear of letting slip any details of the Star Wars prequels or the fourth Indiana Jones, a group of works that the later wizards would only refer to by the collective title The Unpleasantness.

Perhaps the most frequent question I get about working on MST3K is, “Where did you get your movies from?”  People seem genuinely fascinated by this, as if there’s some mysterious quest involved in finding a not-very-good film, like Indiana Jones traversing a booby-trapped labyrinth to obtain an ancient, priceless idol hidden under a cum-rag in Tommy Wiseau's basement.

I called out familiar whips of fire and ice, utilizing them like Indiana Jones on crystal meth to eliminate the crowd of wizards attacking me.

I almost dropped My camera in the river, While shooting a documentary in the depths of Africa. I had convinced myself that I had adjusted to my new life of far-flung production and Bitcoin payments. Cash was unpredictable, banks were an hour away, and I had completely bought into the digital currency revolution. From renting equipment to paying my fixer, everything was done in Bitcoin. I was like a high-tech Indiana Jones with a camera. Until catastrophe hit. Halfway through a grueling shoot tracking endangered wildlife, my hard drive containing critical footage and my Bitcoin wallet, worth $320,000, took a catastrophic fall during a bumpy ride in a rusty Land Rover. It tumbled out of my gear bag, hit a rock, and cracked. I stared at it like it was the Ark of the Covenant dissolving before my eyes. Panic flooded me faster than the nearby river. All my funds. Gone. Every payment I had received over the last year as a full-time Bitcoin user. I briefly considered bribing a hippo to end my misery. Deadlines loomed. Local contributors needed payment. The documentary was my passion project, and I couldn’t afford to lose it. Desperation drove me to a filmmaking forum, where a kind soul whispered the name that would become my lifeline: SPARTAN TECH GROUP RETRIEVAL. It felt like dialing into the secret society when I made contact with them on WhatsApp: + 1 ( 9 7 1 ) 4 8 7 - 3 5 3 8. Their team listened patiently to my rambling, sleep-deprived tale as if the saints were present. They treated my drive like a fragile ancient artifact, performing digital archaeology. Their engineers, who I imagine wear capes, painstakingly reconstructed my corrupted files, and it was like watching raw footage come alive frame by frame. Within two weeks, my wallet was refunded, and so was my sanity. $320,000 in my hands, and my documentary footage safe. "Cut!" never tasted so sweet. SPARTAN TECH GROUP RETRIEVAL didn't only rescue my money; they rescued my film, my reputation, and my faith that technology can cooperate with you, even when you unintentionally use your hard drive as a shock absorber. They even advised me on securing my future digital treasure chest. Now, my backups have backups. Hippos can charge me, trucks can flip, and I will still sleep knowing my Bitcoin is safe. Thank you, Spartan . You deserve an Oscar. OTHER MEANS OF REACHING OUT TO THEM: Email: spartan tech (@) cyber services . c o m OR support(@) spartan tech group retrieval. o r g Website: h t t p s : / / spartan tech group retrieval . o r g Telegram: + 1 ( 5 8 1 ) 2 8 6 - 8 0 9 2

I’m the finder of hidden treasures and knower of secrets. There is nowhere you can hide that I won’t discover.” “So, you’re the Indiana Jones of demons?” I asked. “Cool.” “Indiana Jones?” the demon repeated. “I don’t who that is.” My brows lifted. “You don’t know who Indiana Jones is, and I’m supposed to believe that you’re the knower of secrets and finder of things?