Elle Lothlorien Quotes

The line from Pulp Fiction—the one Samuel L. Jackson shouts at John Travolta as they’re trying to wash blood off their hands—pops into my head: 'I used the same soap you did and when I dried my hands, the towel didn't look like no fuckin’ maxi-pad!' I almost—almost—share this most quotable of cinematic quotes with him, when I remember it contains The Word. You know: 'maxi-pad.

Are you saying that you need an attorney? For what? As far as I know, being a dick isn’t against the law in any country.

Well, you played me, Rabbit. You played me, and it worked, and I’m not the kind of person to make the same mistake twice. Your whole life is a game, but you know what? I already have a life. Poker’s nothing to me but a goddamn deck of cards.

After one and a half cocktails, finding the appropriate response is a bit of a challenge. I finally say, 'Thank you for inviting me,' and leave the less desirable 'Want to play strip poker?' in the unscrupulous part of my brain where it belongs.

How do you tactfully spin the term “man-whore” to someone’s sister?

Suddenly, the giant, three-headed dog that guards the entrance to the Underworld appears next to her—sans two of its heads—and sits down. As a child, we had a neighbor with a Great Dane, and I know they’re about three feet tall at the shoulder. Allow another twelve inches for their T-Rex-sized heads, and you’ve got a dog that this woman could throw a saddle on and ride like a pony.

I want to kiss my brother for being so tactful. Rabbit looks grateful as well, and I can only imagine what it would be like to trot out your embarrassing 'enjo kosai' problem in front of your sister, your former love-interest of a couple of weeks, and her two siblings.

I have a totally unhealthy and unrealistic fear of being eaten by a great white shark. This is because I belong to a very specific demographic called American Child Whose Parents Made the Ill-Advised Decision To Allow Her To Watch the Movie Jaws At a Sleepover During Her Formative Years.

I don’t need to look at your primal, white-hot, mutant pirate eyes, big guy. Just forget that I’m there, and I’ll try to block out the fact that I ever met you. Basically we’ll just act like we do every day.

I believe it went like this—and stop me if I’m wrong, Mousey: ‘Listen, we may not be our own continent and everything, but we have a big country over in America too.

I brought you out here because I wanted to share a sunrise with you, and maybe even a sunset. I wanted to see how much I could kiss you between now and the time we dock tomorrow. And if I was really lucky, I was hoping I could lie with you until you fell asleep, until I couldn’t stay awake anymore. And in the morning, we’d wake up, and we’d be together, just like this.

If one more person tells me how big this country is, I’m going to go kick a koala.

. I’ve watched about a dozen tourists almost get hit by cars since I’ve been here. I barely made it to the beach alive the other day. I mean, no one knows what they’re doing. They swing their heads back and forth like they’re mounted on a door hinge, but they don’t even know what they’re looking for, not really. Cars just come at you from all sorts of unnecessary directions here, and we’re all probably going to get killed.

I grimace, thinking someone should come up with a new phrase for 'I left the ocean without a kiwi-sized chunk of my lower-left butt cheek' to replace the rather nebulous term 'exploratory bite.

So ‘fatal’ only kills you two out of three times these days? That’s good to know.

I try not to laugh too loud, afraid a bark-like noise will be mistaken by any great whites lurking in the area as the distress call of a juvenile seal.

My help—it’s not a light switch you can turn on and off. My help starts right now, and after this point you don’t get to tell me that you don’t want it anymore. Understand? You had a chance to walk away, Alice, and you didn’t take it. Now it’s time to play the game.

Turns out making a dramatic exit is a lot harder when you have to stand there and wait another twenty minutes for a boat to dock.

Just keep it simple, Alice Faye. Remember how you taught yourself. Nothing’s different just because you’re on a yacht, or wearing a fancy dress. Or because you appear to have dropped acid and are now in the mirror room at the fun house.

I’m good at being vague and unpredictable. It’s sort of a hard habit to break.

I’ve found that lifting the lid with your foot is the most thorough and least gross path to two minutes of peace of mind.

Alice? You didn’t get this far without realizing that you don’t have to cheat to win. You just have to accept that people are easily manipulated.

Have you thrown ‘Why is a raven like a writing desk?’ at her yet?

Alice, I am the game, and trust me: you don’t want to play me.

Pretty great view. You think they’d do something about the sharks.

As you know, the International Poker Tour, by its own admission, knows very little about poker games, one of which ended tragically last week when an IPT-sanctioned tournament aboard a yacht in Australia accidentally used tarot cards instead of playing cards. That’s right, it’s true! Apparently no one noticed until someone laid down a full house and the dealer died.

Don’t be such a dumbass, Gabe. Koalas don’t travel in herds. They move in heaps. Much like emus move in ripples, and kangaroos travel in photo-ops.

I look around briefly at the other players like I always do before a game. Other than Queenie, Bill, and Talon, I don’t know any of them (and I don’t care enough about them to know them). But if there’s going to be any cordiality, any forced politeness or ‘Aw, shucks, let’s all just try to have a good time here tonight’ kind of blather, then now’s the time to get it out of the way before I get down to the business of screwing everyone out of their hopes and dreams.

I believe the phrase you’re looking for is ‘too much money and not enough things to spend it on.

I slump in my chair, thinking how a narcotic party of one is no party at all.

Did you think your boyfriend was going to stick around and watch you do THAT? If we weren’t related, I would’ve left too. Actually…is it already too late for me to leave?

Fun fact: You may hug koalas in the Australian state of New South Wales, but not in Queensland. So…if you didn’t hug your koala nice and tight before you got here to Sydney, you’re going to be shit out of luck until we go back to Surfer’s Paradise.

Aw, you’re nothing but heart, Mako. Nice valentine in your skull, by the way. Is that temporary or did the Tanaka-kai change their daimon to attract the Powerpuff Girls crowd?

Don’t take this the wrong way, but Australians have a LOT of bitches on their cashola.

Don’t worry, little bunny, we only use our triplet telepathic powers for good.

Once the principals in their party are seated, with those lower on the totem pole left to grumble and move on to find another table, our once-cozy booth transforms into a damp fusion of vacuous wretchedness, with the three women all complaining alternately about their wet hair/clothes and their respective distance from Talon, while the man himself is trying to maneuver his Paul Bunyan frame way too close to me.

Yeah, well, when they say ‘You know it’s a long way, don’t you?’ what they really mean is: ‘You know it’d be faster if you just rode a kangaroo, don’t you?

Hey, any idea why Australians speak something that sounds deceptively like English but isn’t? I mean, I’m trying to figure out why I can’t seem to converse with another human being who speaks the same language as I do.

I’m almost afraid to tell you. Let’s put it this way: clean toilets are the least of your problems in this country.

Right, 'the Queen of Hearts.' Sounds to me like you’re just one bitch in a whole pack of cards, baby.

How was I supposed to know ‘lucked out’ means ‘I got screwed over’ in Australian?

Are you referring to the day you instructed me to ‘follow the white rabbit,’ plied me with absinthe and brownies, and tried to have your way with me? Didn’t take long for you to lose your romantic streak, did it?

I’ll get you and your little dog too?’ You say your girl can’t pay me back? Believe me when I say that that little gift’s just gonna keep right on giving.

Mouse likes to drag you to uninhabited areas with no cell signal—all those places perfect for dying of exposure.

Didn’t you read the invitation? There’s going to be a game in a little while--the big Twister game in an hour. Make sure you eat plenty of bread.

And just so you know—that winter forest we walked into first? That was from Through the Looking Glass too. Hey, if you’re going to saddle me with the blame for your overconsumption, at least get the book right.

Wait, and you had to ask him if Faye’s in danger? IF? Okay, first of all, I’m just going to admit that I didn’t know Japan had a Mafia, but I also didn’t know they got a Disney World. If someone gets an invitation from the Mafia, I’d say there’s potential for a bit of danger, wouldn’t you? I mean, am I the only one here who saw Goodfellas?

Turns out rolling your eyes in a bar when ‘Land Down Under’ plays is like someone belching during the Star Spangled Banner in America.

Follow me down, Alice Faye Dahl. I know the way.

Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel when I’m around you: confused, but still satisfied.' I freeze, trying to figure out how to cancel it out and replace it with something that sounds a whole lot less like sex and a candy bar ad.

Well, Faye, dear, I’m sure Harlow’s sorry she didn’t think to ask if you’d been eaten by a shark. That’s totally on her.

By the way, don’t thank me for saving you, thank the lifeguards. If it was up to me, I would’ve just carried you off to the building by the boardwalk that said SURGERY. I’m sorry, but there’s a big difference between a family doctor treating you for the sniffles, and a guy who actually owns and knows how to use an operating table.

Oh, yeah, that goatee is really unattractive. That definitely belongs on a much fatter man.

I hear they’re all infected with chlamydia, which just goes to show that you really can’t tell who’s got the clam. I mean, look at a picture of a koala…tell me you’re not shocked.

Congratulations, Mousey, you’ve managed to insult every marsupial in the country in just under three kilometers.

When she reaches down to touch his shoulder—a gesture only a few species and a million or so years removed from lifting a leg and marking him as her territory with a stream of urine—enough bracelets and bangles to lay track across the Australian Outback slide down her arm and come to a jangling stop at her wrist.

Uh-oh, I hope he doesn’t start rattling off dirty limericks next; she’ll probably burn the hotel down.

Like your sweet, affectionate house cat, Alice Dahl is easy to underestimate. It’s not until the songbirds in the yard show up eviscerated on the front porch that you realize you should’ve kept that bell collar on her—because those poor birds never even saw her coming.

So you went back to your friend’s next donkament two weeks later, and this time you just laughed right along when they gave you that framed picture of the poker hands. And when they called you ‘pigeon,’ ‘fish,’ and ‘muppet,’ you just smiled and batted your eyes and said stupid things like ‘Does a straight beat a crooked?’ And while everyone else was throwing a party, you just sat there acting like a tourist with your kill stack until you were in the money. Those poor dills…they didn’t know what hit ‘em, did they?

...once I realized that Australia’s top highway speed of 110 kilometers per hour was the same as going 65 in the U.S., all my hardened American enthusiasm for speed went limp until it felt like the car was hardly moving at all. Even worse, most stretches of the highway are restricted to 60 kilometers per hour, which is how fast Americans go when we’re, like, passing a stopped school bus disembarking small children, or driving through a herd of puppies in the road.