All the ways you wish you could be, that’s me. I look like you wanna look, I f*ck like you wanna f*ck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.
He was full of pep. Must’ve had his grande-latte enema.
Narrator: I know it seems like I have more than one side sometimes.
Marla: More than one side? You’re Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!
And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.
Narrator: When people think you’re dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of just…
Marla: – instead of just waiting for their turn to speak?
Tyler: Do you know what a duvet is?
Narrator: It’s a comforter.
Tyler: It’s a blanket. Just a blanket. Now why do guys like you and me know what a duvet is? Is this essential to our survival, in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we then?
Tyler: Right. We are consumers. We’re the byproducts of a lifestyle obsession.
Tyler: If you could fight anyone, who would you fight?
Narrator: Shatner. I’d fight William Shatner.
Every evening I died, and every evening I was born again, resurrected..
Tyler: Listen to me! You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, He hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen.
Narrator: It isn’t?
Tyler: We don’t need Him!
Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My parents pulled this exact same act for years..
Tyler: You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?
Narrator: So you can breathe.
Tyler: Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you’re taking giant panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It’s all right here. Emergency water landing – 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.
Narrator: That’s, um… That’s an interesting theory.
Fight Club wasn’t about winning or losing. It wasn’t about words. The hysterical shouting was in tongues, like at a Pentecostal Church..
A condom is the glass slipper for our generation. You slip one on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, and then you throw it away. The condom, I mean, not the stranger.