Roger Rabbit Quotes

I don’t ever remember being afraid of “oldness”. There are things I miss about being younger - chiefly the ability to pull all-nighters and keep working and working well; and being smiled at by girls I didn’t know who thought I was cute; and I wish I had the eyesight I had even five years ago… but that stuff feels pretty trivial. I’m happier than I’ve been at any time in my life these days. I have a wonderful wife whom I adore, watched three amazing kids grow into two delightful adults and my favourite teenager, an astonishing number of grand life experiences, I’ve made art I’m proud of, I have real, true, glorious friends, and I’ve been able to do real good for things I care about, like freedom of speech, like libraries. Sometimes I’ll do something like An Evening With Neil and Amanda, or the 8 in 8 project, and completely surprise myself. I miss friends who have died, but then, I’m glad that time gave them to me, to befriend, even for a while, and that I was alive to know them. I knew Douglas Adams, and I knew Roger Zelazny, and I knew John M Ford, and I knew Diana Wynne Jones… do you know how lucky that makes me? Ah, I’m rabbiting on, and I sound a bit more Pollyannaish than I’m intending to sound: I know the downside of age and the downside of time, and I am sure that the view from age 51 is not the view from age 71. I wish the time hadn’t gone so fast, though. And sometimes I wish I’d enjoyed it more on the way, and worried about it less.

I’m not bad, Mr. Valiant. I’m just drawn that way.

A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Sometimes in life it's the only weapon we have.

She reached into an alabaster box and pulled out a violet cigarette that also exactly matched her eyes. Some people just don't know when to quit. She lit her colored coffin nail, set it into an ashtray, and promptly forgot about it. It smoldered into eternity silently begging for one more touch from her gorgeous lips.

As his gaze rose to her face - he bit back a gasp. "Your hair, it's - " "Red." ... "You look stunning." ... "Did I ever tell you that when I was growing up, my favorite cartoon characters was Jessica Rabbit?" ... "You always had the curves, but now, with the hair..." He blew out an exaggerated Roger Rabbit whistle. "You're a spittin' image.

Must have had a stronger union than the coffee machine.

It’s not enough to admire the pretty bottles filled with varicolored liquids behind the bar. You’re supposed to ask questions about them—what they are and why they’re different, and how people make them. The only people who can get away with going that far down a rabbit hole are journalists, scientists, and three-year-olds. And three-year-olds aren’t allowed in bars.

She lit a new cigarette off the butt of an old one, just like you’d see any ordinary B-girl do in any ordinary juke joint on any ordinary night of the week, except, when Jessica did it, she made it seem extraordinary, as exotic and exciting as watching a jeweler cutting diamonds or a gunsmith engraving steel. She wrapped her lips seductively around the filter tip and sucked rhythmically, making her cigarette darken and glow, darken and glow in a pattern that spelled out temptation in her seductive private code.

bank robber was standing in the center of the apartment, surrounded by Stockholmers, both figurative and literal. “Stockholm” is, after all, an expression more than it is a place, both for men like Roger and for most of the rest of us, just a symbolic word to denote all the irritating people who get in the way of our happiness. People who think they’re better than us. Bankers who say no when we apply for a loan, psychologists who ask questions when we only want sleeping pills, old men who steal the apartments we want to renovate, rabbits who steal our wives. Everyone who doesn’t see us, doesn’t understand us, doesn’t care about us. Everyone has Stockholmers in their life, even people from Stockholm have their own Stockholmers, only to them it’s “people who live in New York” or “politicians in Brussels,” or other people from some other place where people seem to think that they’re better than the Stockholmers think they

Roger Rabbit’s Car Toon Spin was, at one time, going to have a second level to it. You can still see the balcony where the cabs would have passed by outside. During the early days, there would be a band playing up there.

Hey detective," said Baby Herman as I shut the door. "I like you. You come back sometime, and we'll have us a party. I'll supply the funny hats, the cake, and the noisemakers. You supply the broads. Just make sure they go for younger men.

I went back to my office and let my bottom desk drawer buy me a drink.

You could see a long way, but not half as far as Roger had gone.

Eddie: Do you mean to tell me you could've taken your hand out of that cuff at any time?! Roger: No! Not any time, only when it was funny.

He had liquor in about any color you could ask for, except the one I liked best, standard whiskey brown. I told him no thanks. He poured himself three fingers of emerald green and added equal portions of lemon yellow, sky blue, and sunset orange. I half expected him to stir it with a' Crayola.

I didn’t really expect her to accept, not with her being a humanoid and me a barnyard.

I’ve tried to talk to her a couple of times, but she avoids me.

I’m constantly amazed how people kid themselves into believing love can conquer all.

For the year Jessica and I were together, we were as in love as two people can be. There was no faking how she felt about me. She couldn’t possibly have reversed herself so quickly.

But, like I said, nobody ever accused me of having an overabundance of good sense.

A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it’s the only weapon we have.

Here I sit with a thirty-six-year-old lust, and a three-year-old dinky.

A guy like Tracy could probably get elected chief of police on the basis of his dashing reflection in the fun-house mirror. In the comic business they call that the power of make believe. In our nation’s capital, they call it politics.

people who peek through keyholes have to expect an occasional poke in the eye.

Inspired in part by the uncanny ability of viruses to splice new genetic information into the DNA of bacterial cells, the pioneers of this early gene therapy realized they could use viruses to deliver therapeutic genes to humans. The first reported attempts came in the late 1960s from Stanfield Rogers, an American physician who had been studying a wart-causing virus in rabbits, Shope papillomavirus. Rogers was particularly interested in one aspect of the Shope virus: It caused rabbits to overproduce arginase, an enzyme their bodies used to neutralize arginine, a harmful amino acid. The sick rabbits had much more arginase in their systems, and much less arginine, than healthy rabbits. What’s more, Rogers found that researchers who had worked with the virus also had lower-than-normal levels of arginine in their blood. Apparently these scientists had contracted the infections from the rabbits, and these infections had led to lasting changes in the researchers’ bodies as well. Rogers suspected that the Shope virus was ferrying a gene for heightened arginase production into cells. As he marveled at the virus’s ability to transfer its genetic information so effectively, he began to wonder if an engineered version could deliver other, useful genes. Many years later, Rogers would recall: “It was clear that we had uncovered a therapeutic agent in search of a disease!” Rogers didn’t have to wait long for a disease