"But I didn't say he was married. I said he was engaged to be married. There is a great difference. I have a distinct remembrance of being married, but I have no recollection at all of being engaged. I am inclined to think that I never was engaged.
Ever since college, I make friends. They get married. I lose friends.
This house is so full of people it makes me sick! When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone! I'm living alone!
— I'm not gonna drain you completely. You'll be my slave. Because I don't think you're worthy of human blood, you'll feed on the blood of stray dogs. You'll be my foot stool. And at my command, you'll lick the dog shit from my boot heel. Since you'll be my dog, your new name will be Spot. Welcome to slavery.
— No, thanks. I already had a wife.
Mort was hurt by this. It was one thing not to want to marry someone, but quite another to be told they didn't want to marry you.
— I'm gonna marry you. I know it.
— Um... okay.
Have you not met Will Turner? He's noble, heroic, a terrific soprano. Worth at least four. Maybe three and a half. And did I happen to mention he's in love? With a girl. Due to be married. Betrothed. Dividing him from her and her from him would only be half as cruel as actually allowing them to be joined in holy matrimony. Eh?
— You're married?
— Occasionally. I'm always on the lookout for a future ex-Mrs. Malcolm.
- 1
- 2