Bernie LaPlante

I know why it's raining. I coulda predicted this. It's raining because my wipers are fucked up. If my wipers were okay, the fucking sun would be shining right now. At night!

— Hombre, he don't trust his mother. Why you?
— Because I'm not his mother.

— You too. You're coming with me. If you don't, I'll have the cops pick you up.
— What kind of bullshit is this? Is this America or...?
— Here. 20, 35... What have you got? Give Mr. LaPlante your money. Come on, let's go.
— You media people. You think you can just buy people cheap?
— That's all I have.
— A bigtime cameraman like you? That's all you got?

I'm not saying I hate sick people or anything. But I hate being around them, if you know what I mean.

Well, the thing about life is, it gets weird. People always talk to you about truth. They know what it is... like it was toilet paper, and they got a supply in the closet. But as you get older,
you learn there ain't no truth. All there is, is bullshit. Pardon my vulgarity here. One layer of bullshit on top of another. And what you do in life, when you get older is... you pick the layer you prefer... and that's your bullshit, so to speak.

You can't believe one word you hear on TV.