Ratched Quotes

You were made to bring happiness. You are alive in ways we are not. You are soft and fragile. But you are complex and disturbing and sometimes foolishly brilliant.

But, gee," the other nurse says, "what on earth would MAKE a man want to do something like disrupt the ward for, Miss Ratched? What possible motive...?" "You seem to forget, MISS Flinn, that this is an institution for the insane.

I'll k-kill you." A big, pink heart appeared on her screen. "I am old enough to be your motherboard. Please do not flirt with me if you do not mean it.

I see he had his shorts on under the towel all along. I think for a fact that she'd rather he'd of been stark naked under that towel than had on those shorts. She's glaring at those big white whales leaping round on his shorts in pure wordless outrage.

Props?”  She was almost afraid to ask. “Just the usual.  Stethoscope, tongue depressor... scalpel, bone saw, rib spreaders… just the normal stuff.” “Maybe in future you should ditch the props, be less Nurse Ratched and more soft porn first day on the job candy striper.” Darcy look genuinely puzzled for a brief moment. “Where would the fun be in that for me?

Most merciful God, accept these two poor sinners into your arms. And keep the doors ajar for the coming of the rest of us, because you are witnessing the end, the absolute, irrevocable, fantastic end. I’ve finally realized what is happening. It is our last fling. We are doomed henceforth. Must screw our courage to the sticking point and face up to our impending fate. We [255] shall be all of us shot at dawn. One hundred cc’s apiece. Miss Ratched shall line us all against the wall, where we,,, face the terrible maw of a muzzle-loading shotgun which she has loaded with Miltowns! Thorazines! Libriums! Stelazines! And with a wave of her sword, blooie! Tranquilize all of us completely out of existence.

Ratched shall line us all against the wall, where we’ll face the terrible maw of a muzzle-loading shotgun which she has loaded with Miltowns! Thorazines! Libriums! Stelazines! And with a wave of her sword, blooie! Tranquilize all of us completely out of existence.

We go off the meds and elect Richard Nixon, the Nurse Ratched of the American political psych ward.

She said it wasn’t unheard of for people to identify as asexual, meaning those who were "ace" didn’t experience attraction in the same way others did. Sex-positive or sex-repulsed, there was no wrong way to be. "So I’m not malfunctioning?" Vic asked nervously, mulling the word "asexual" over in his mind. "You are not," Nurse Ratched had replied. "I also do not experience sexual attraction, and I am perfect. The same could arguably be said about you.

There may be a Nurse Ratched-like listing of things that must be done right this moment: foods that must come out of the freezer, appointments that must be canceled or made, hairs that must be tweezed. But you hold an imaginary gun to your head and make yourself stay at the desk.

She beeped rudely at him. "I have noted in your file that you are refusing medical assistance against my advice. If you die during the night, your surviving family will not be able to bring a lawsuit against me." He laughed wildly. "You're my surviving family." "Oh. Well. Engaging Empathy Protocol. That was very nice of you to say. You are wonderful. Disengaging Empathy Protocol. Idiot. I am going to sleep now. Do not bother me unless you are on fire. Even then, I will do little to help you." She plugged herself in next to Rambo and was silent.

What do you think?” Harding says. McMurphy starts. “She’s got one hell of a set of chabobs,” is all he can think of. “Big as Old Lady Ratched’s.” “I didn’t mean physically, my friend, I mean what do you—” “Hell’s bells, Harding!” McMurphy yells suddenly. “I don’t know what to think! What do you want out of me? A marriage counsellor? All I know is this: nobody’s very big in the first place, and it looks to me like everybody spends their whole life tearing everybody else down. I know what you want me to think; you want me to feel sorry for you, to think she’s a real bitch. Well, you didn’t make her feel like any queen either. Well, screw you and ‘what do you think?’ I’ve got worries of my own without getting hooked with yours. So just quit!” He glares around the library at the other patients. “Alla you! Quit bugging me, goddammit!” And

Do I have an anus?” Rambo asked. “No,” Nurse Ratched said. “But you are one, so.” Rambo beeped in confusion. “I thought I was a vacuum.” “You are. An anal vacuum.

Why?” Vic asked. “You know why,” Nurse Ratched said. “Because I’m yours,” he said. “Like you’re mine.” “Yes.

You should come closer,” Nurse Ratched said. “I promise not to strangle you until your head pops off and falls to the floor.” On her screen, the words YOU CAN TRUST ME! I’M A NURSE!

I don't like it," Rambo said. "What if it's a dragon?" "Dragons do not exist," Nurse Ratched said. "That was a story I told you to scare you. They are not real." "Are you sure?" "No," Nurse Ratched said. "You should go first and find out.

Victor is extremely intelligent," Nurse Ratched said. "He can fix almost anything. And he decided to fix you, so you should be thankful to your father. Your dad. Your daddy. Error. Error. Do not call people 'daddy.' That is unprofessional.

Just because he won't remember us doesn't mean he's not Gio. We love him. He loves us. We'll find him. We'll make him remember. Vic will build him a new heart." "Love," the Coachman said in awe. "Truly? You love him?" "Yes," Nurse Ratched said. "We do.

If you’d like, I can help with your programming. Perhaps get rid of that little stutter while also making you a love machine like you deserve to be.” “He does not have genitals,” Nurse Ratched said. “He’s got fingers,” the Coachman said without missing a beat.

Oh no,” Nurse Ratched said. “I think I am swooning. I also say ‘not yet’ when asked if I want to kill things. You are perfect.” Her screen showed two hands shaking in greeting. “I am no longer your mother. You will be my murder husband. Is there anyone here that can marry us?

There is an eight percent chance that the power source has gone critical and will cause an explosion that will level the surrounding area, killing all of us in the process." "It's not going to explode," Vic told Rambo. "She would never have let us get this far if she thought that was going to happen." "So I let you think," Nurse Ratched said, a skull appearing on her screen. "You have fallen into my trap. I wanted you to get this far. Prepare for death." The skull disappeared, replaced by DON'T FORGET TO RATE MY SERVICE! I APPRECIATE A 10! It took Vic longer than he cared to admit to realize she was kidding.

I just want to make things better. You deserved it. Nurse Ratched deserved it. He does too. If we fix what's broken, we should always try." "Why?" Rambo asked. Vic chose his words carefully, trying to find the right ones in the right order. "Because all beings deserve a chance to find out what life could be when they don't have to serve others.

What is it?" Vic asked. "I do not know," Nurse Ratched said. "Consider leaving it where it lies. It was discarded for a reason. Malfunction. Corruption. Faulty coding. It has obviously served its purpose." "You said the same thing about Rambo," Vic said, never looking away from the hand. "I did. And you did not listen to me then. Look what happened.

Why do you care so much?” Rambo asked. Vic blinked. “What do you mean?” “You found him,” Rambo said. “And you’re trying to fix him. You did the same for me and Nurse Ratched. Why?” Vic shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know. It’s just…” Nurse Ratched beeped. “It is as Gio said. Searching for a connection. Making something out of nothing so the spaces between us do not seem so far.

Vic pointed up toward his room. “There. That’s mine. That’s where I sleep.” “Oh yes,” Nurse Ratched said. “Good idea. Point out where you will be defenseless to the murderous revenge machine. That is clear thinking.” “It’s going to be a bloodbath,” Rambo moaned. “I’ll have to try and clean up Vic’s remains.” He sniffled. “At least he’ll always be a part of me then. I love you, Vic, even when you’re in pieces, your flesh hanging from the ceiling—

She said it wasn’t unheard of for people to identify as asexual, meaning those who were ‘ace’ didn’t experience attraction in the same way others did. Sex-positive or sex-repulsed, there was no wrong way to be. ‘So I’m not malfunctioning?’ Vic asked nervously, mulling the word ‘asexual’ over in his mind. ‘You are not,’ Nurse Ratched had replied. ‘I also do not experience sexual attraction, and I am perfect. The same could arguably be said about you.

Why do you care so much?” Rambo asked. Vic blinked. “What do you mean?” “You found him,” Rambo said. “And you’re trying to fix him. You did the same for me and Nurse Ratched. Why?” Vic shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know. It’s just…” Nurse Ratched beeped. “It is as Gio said. Searching for a connection. Making something out of nothing so the spaces between us do not seem so far.” “Are you going to connect with him?” Rambo asked. Vic felt his face grow hot. “That’s not—I’m not trying to—” He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm, breathing in and out. “I just want to make things better. You deserved it. Nurse Ratched deserved it. He does too. If we can fix what’s broken, we should always try.” “Why?” Rambo asked. Vic chose his words carefully, trying to find the right ones in the right order. “Because all beings deserve a chance to find out what life could be when they don’t have to serve others.

Humanity was lost," Dad said. "And lonely. I don't think they even realized just how lonely they were. And so they began to build again, making machines that looked more and more like them. Even surrounded by so many of their kind, they still searched for a connection. They were like gods, in a way, in the power of their creation. At first it was Hubble. Then Discovery. And Curiosity. Explorer and Endeavor and Spirit. The humans gave them names and sent them away beyond the stars in search of that connection they so desperately wished for." "Why?" Nurse Ratched asked. "It seems illogical. Why did they not just speak to each other if they were lonely?" "They did," Dad said. "Or they tried, at least. But they hated as much as they loved. They feared what they didn't understand. Even as they built us, they pushed for more. And the further they went, the less control they had. They accused each other of treachery. They poisoned the earth. They had time to change their ways, but they didn't. And their anger grew until it exploded in fire. Most of them died. But we remained, because our flesh wasn't their flesh. Our bodies were not their bodies. Our minds weren't their minds." He shook his head. "And yet, I love them still." He looked at Vic. "Because for all their faults, they created us. They gave us names. They loved us.

If I had to do my own (favorite) film character list, #1 would be CF Cane. #2 would be Nurse Ratched, #3 would be Dr. Strangelove, and #4-21 would be Sybil.

Nurse Ratched,

But my husband and I were not reassured by the Nurse Ratched–type comforting language, and we were astonished at Governor Cuomo’s dicta. Since we had both lived in war zones and conflict areas, we knew that commerce was never closed, even in the worst crises. People needed to keep making their livings in order to survive the crisis, and the economy needed to be sustained in order for the community to survive the crisis.

You're fine the way you are," Vic told him, shooting a glare at Nurse Ratched which she ignored completely. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're just... unique. Like the rest of us.