Jack: Do not drink too much. Do you hear me? I don't want you passing out or going to the dark side. No going to the dark side!Miles Raymond: Okay!
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Jack: I might be in love with another woman.
Miles Raymond: In love? Really? 24 hours with some wine-pourer chick and you're f**king in love? Come on! And you're gonna give up everything?
Jack: Here's what I'm thinking: you and me, we move up here, we buy a vineyard. You design the wine; I'll handle the business side. You get inspired, maybe write another novel, one that can sell.
Miles Raymond: Oh, my God. No, no.
Jack: As for me, if an audition comes up, LA's right there, man. It's two hours away, not even.
Miles Raymond: Jesus Christ, you're crazy. You're crazy. You've gone crazy.
Jack: All I know is that I'm an actor. All I have is my instinct. You're asking me to go against it.
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Miles Raymond: [while tasting wine] It tastes like the back of a f**king L.A. school bus. Now they probably didn't de-stem, hoping for some semblance of concentration, crushed it up with leaves and mice, and then wound up with this rancid tar and turpentine bulls**t. F**kin' Raid.
Jack: Tastes pretty good to me.
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Miles Raymond: Did you read the latest draft, by the way?
Jack: Oh, yeah. Yeah.
Miles Raymond: And?
Jack: It's great. I mean there are so many improvements. It's much tighter, just seems... I don't know, more congealed or something.
Miles Raymond: Mm-hmm. What about the new ending? Did you like that?
Jack: Oh, yeah. New ending vastly superior to the old ending.
Miles Raymond: There is no new ending. Page 750 on is exactly the same.
Jack: [pause] Well... maybe it just seemed new because everything leading up to it was so different?
Miles Raymond: [sarcastically] Yeah, that must be it!
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Miles Raymond: Quaffable, but uh... far from transcendent.
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Miles Raymond: This weekend is not about me. It is about you. I'm gonna show you a good time. We're gonna drink a lot of good wine. We're gonna play some golf. We're gonna eat some great food and enjoy the scenery and we are going to send you off in style, mon frere.
Jack: And get your bone smooched.
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Jack: Are you still seeing that shrink?
Miles Raymond: I saw him on Monday. I spent most of the time helping him with his computer.
Jack: Well, I say, f**k therapy. And what is that stuff you take... Xanax?
Miles Raymond: And Lexapro, yes.
Jack: Well, I say, f**k that too. You need to get your joint worked on, Miles.
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Jack: Speak for yourself. I get chicks lookin' at me all the time. All ages. Dudes too.
Miles Raymond: Well, it's not worth it. You pay too big a price. It's never free.
Jack: You need to get laid, Miles. You know what? That's going to be my best man gift to you this week. I'm gonna get you laid.
Miles Raymond: Wonderful.
Jack: I'm not gonna get you a gift certificate or a pen knife or any of that other horse s**t.
Miles Raymond: I'd rather have a knife.
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Miles Raymond: Uh, I don't know, I don't know. Um, it's a hard grape to grow, as you know. Right? It's uh, it's thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It's, you know, it's not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and uh, thrive even when it's neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. You know? And in fact it can only grow in these really specific, little, tucked away corners of the world. And, and only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot's potential can then coax it into its fullest expression. Then, I mean, oh its flavors, they're just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and... ancient on the planet.
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Jack: Bet ya that chick's two tons of fun. You know, the grateful type?
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Total Quotes: 32
