The Shipping News
[Tert is ordered to buy Quoyle a new computer]
Quoyle: IBM please.
Tert Card: Go back to your work Quoyle!
Quoyle: I!... B!... M!
Quoyle: ...broken man can heal.
Billy: It's finding the center of your story, the beating heart of it, that's what makes a reporter. You have to start by making up some headlines. You know: short, punchy, dramatic headlines. Now, have a look, what do you see? [Points at dark clouds at the horizon] Tell me the headline.
Quoyle: Horizon Fills With Dark Clouds?
Billy: Imminent Storm Threatens Village.
Quoyle: But what if no storm comes?
Billy: Village Spared From Deadly Storm.
Billy: [delivering a eulogy at Jack's wake] Jack is ... Jack is all right now. You all know ... we are only passing by. We walk over these stones a few times. Our boats ... sail for a little while on the waves and then they have to sink. Jack knew that, better than anyone. Right, Jack?
Jack Buggit: . . I need a reporter. And you'll do local car wrecks. Take the picture, write the story. We run a front-page photo of a car wreck every week whether or not we actually hav a a car wreck. Now, there's a knack for taking photos that make you feel something. If there's a dark patch on the ground it reads blood whether it's motor oil or Diet Coke.
Jack Buggit: You don't have the sense God gave a donut, do you?
Quoyle: What are we doing here?
Agnis: Makin' a future!
Quoyle: [reading the newspaper] This is from the "News of you Neighbors" column. "The pole on the corner of Main and West Streets has a sign on it that says it's illegal to place anything on that pole. We see the postman has landed in the clink for throwing the mail in Killick-Claw Harbor. He said he had too much to deliver and the folks could just take a dip and help themselves. Guess it helps if you can swim."
Quoyle: This is professional stuff. How am I supposed to write this?
Billy: It's women that's shaped like leaves, and men fall.
Petal Bear: It's 8:05. I think I'm gonna fuck you by 10:00.