Questo sito utilizza i cookies per fornire i nostri servizi, per migliorare le prestazioni, per analisi, e (per gli utenti che accedono senza fare login) per la pubblicità. Usando LibraryThing confermi di aver letto e capito le nostre condizioni di servizio e la politica sulla privacy. Il tuo uso del sito e dei servizi è soggetto a tali politiche e condizioni.
Risultati da Google Ricerca Libri
Fai clic su di un'immagine per andare a Google Ricerca Libri.
Dati dalle informazioni generali inglesi.Modifica per tradurlo nella tua lingua.
Arthur Nudge: Eh? Know what I mean? Know what I mean? Nudge, nudge! Know what I mean? Say no more! A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat, say no more, say no more!
Colonel: Watkins, why did you join the army? Watkins: For the water-skiing and the travel, sir. Not for the killing, sir. I asked them to put it on my form, sir: "no killing". Colonel: Watkins, are you a pacifist? Watkins: No, sir. I'm not a pacifist, sir: I'm a coward.
Encyclopedia Salesman: Burglar, madam. Woman: What do you want? Encyclopedia Salesman: I want to come in and steal a few things, madam. Woman: Are you an encyclopaedia salesman? Encyclopedia Salesman: No madam, I'm a burglar, I burgle people. Woman: I think you're an encyclopaedia salesman. Encyclopedia Salesman: Oh I'm not, open the door, let me in please. Woman: If I let you in, you'll sell me encyclopedias. Encyclopedia Salesman: I won't, madam. I just want to come in and ransack the flat. Honestly. Woman: Promise? No encyclopedias? Encyclopedia Salesman: None at all. Woman: All right.You'd better come in then. Encyclopedia Salesman: Mind you, I don't know whether you've really considered the advantages of owning a really fine set of modern encyclopedias... You know, they can really do you wonders.
Superintendant Praline: Next we have number four - "Crunchy Frog". Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in here? Mr Milton: Yes, a little one. Superintendant Praline: What sort of frog? Mr Milton: A dead frog. Superintendant Praline: Is it cooked? Mr Milton: No. Superintendant Praline: What, a raw frog?! Mr Milton: We use only the finest baby frogs, dew picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and then sealed in a succulent Swiss quintuple smooth treble cream milk chocolate envelope and lovingly frosted with glucose. Superintendant Praline: That's as may be — it's still a frog. Don't you even take the bones out? Mr Milton: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?
Mr. Praline: It's not pining, it's passed on! This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be! It's expired and gone to meet its maker! This is a late parrot! It's a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies! It's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! This is an ex-parrot!
Woman: I object to all this sex on the television. I mean, I keep falling off.
Kenny Lust: Now, every so often here in the Refreshment Room it is my honor, my privilege, to welcome some of the truly great international artists. And tonight we have one such artist. Ladies and gentlemen, someone who've I've always personally admired. More deeply, more strongly, more abjectly than anyone before. A man, no, more than a man, a god! A great god whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful, that my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean, until holes wore through my tounge! A man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my filth than dare tread on the same stage with him. Ladies and gentlemen, the incomparably superior human being, Harry Fink!
Counsellor: Your report here says that you are an extremely dull person. You see, our experts describe you as an appallingly dull fellow, unimaginative, timid, lacking in initiative, spineless, easily dominated, no sense of humour, tedious company and irrepressibly drab and awful. And whereas in most professions these would be considerable drawbacks, in chartered accountancy, they're a positive boon.
Mr. Bimmler: Pleased to meet you, squire. I also am not of Minehead but I in Peterborough Lincolnshire's house was given birth to. But am staying in Peterborough Lincolnshire house all time during vor, due to nasty running sores, and vos unable to go in the streets and play football or go to Nuremburg. ah. Am retired vindow cleaner and pacifist, who's not doing war crimes. Oh... and am glad England vin Vorld Cup. Bobby Charlton. Martin Peters. And eating lots of chips and fish and hole in the toads and Dundee cakes on Piccadilly Line, don't you know old chap, And I vos head of Gestapo for 10 years. Five years! No! No! Nein! Vos not head of Gestapo at ALL! I make joke!
Man: Good morning, I'd care to purchase a chicken, please. Vendor: Don't come here with that posh talk, you nasty, stuck-up twit! Man: I beg your pardon? Vendor: A chicken, sir? Certainly. Here we are. Man: Thank you. And how much does that come to per pound, my good fellow? Vendor: Per pound, you slimy trollop? What kind of a ponce are you? Man: I'm sorry? Vendor: Four and six a pound, sir. Nice and ready for roasting. Man: I see. And I'd care to purchase some stuffing in addition, please. Vendor: Use your own, you great poofy poll-nagger! Man: What? Vendor: Certainly, sir, some stuffing. Man: Oh, thank you. Vendor: Oh, "thank you", says the great queen, like a la-di-da pooftah! Man: I beg your pardon? Vendor: That's alright, sir, call again! Man: Excuse me... Vendor: What is it now, you great pillock?! Man: I can't help but notice that you insult me, and then you're polite to me, alternately. Vendor: Oh, I'm terribly sorry to hear that, sir! Man: Oh, that's all right. It doesn't really matter. Vendor: Tough titty if it did, you nasty, spotted prancer!
Bruce: Rule 1 — no pooftahs. Rule 2 — no member of the faculty is to maltreat the abos in any way whatsoever if there's anyone watching. Rule 3 — no pooftahs. Rule 4 — I don't want to catch any of you not drinking after lights out. Rule 5 — no pooftahs. Rule 6 — there is NO Rule 6. Rule 7 — no pooftahs!
Pepperpot 2: Penguins don't come from next door; they come from the Antarctic! Pepperpot 1: BURMA! Pepperpot 2: Why'd you say 'Burma'? Pepperpot 1: I panicked. Pepperpot 2: Perhaps it's from the zoo. Pepperpot 1: Which zoo? Pepperpot 2: How should I know which zoo? I'm not Dr. Bloody Bronowski! Pepperpot 1: How does Dr. Bronowski know which zoo it came from? Pepperpot 2: He knows everything. Pepperpot 1: Ooh, I wouldn't like that. It'd take the mystery out of life. Anyway, if it came from the zoo, it'd have 'Property of the Zoo' stamped on it. Pepperpot 2: No it wouldn't. They don't stamp animals 'Property of the Zoo'! You couldn't stamp a huge lion! Pepperpot 1: They stamp them when they're small. Pepperpot 2: What happens when they moult? Pepperpot 1: Lions don't moult! Pepperpot 2: No, but penguins do. There! I've run rings around you, logically. Pepperpot 1: Oh, intercourse the penguin!
Announcer #1: The BBC would like to apologize to everyone in the world for that last item. It was disgusting and bad and thoroughly disobedient, and please don't bother to phone up because we know it was very tasteless, but they didn't really mean it and they all come from broken homes and have very unhappy personal lives, especially Eric. Anyway, they're all really nice people underneath, and very warm in the traditional show business way. And please don't write in either because the BBC is going through an unhappy phase at the moment, what with its father dying, and the mortgage, and BBC2 going out with men.
Google Books — Sto caricando le informazioni...
(4.52)
)
1