Clockwork Orange (1971)

Alex: And the first thing that flashed into my gulliver was that I'd like to have her right down there on the floor with the old in-out, real savage.

Alex: It had been a wonderful evening and what I needed now, to give it the perfect ending, was a little of the Ludwig Von.

Alex: Hi, hi, hi, Mr. Deltoid!

[Listening to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony] Alex: Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures!

Alex: Appy-polly-loggies. I had something of a pain in my gulliver so I had to sleep. I was not awakened when I gave orders for awakening.

Alex: Welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, well. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit?

Minister: As I was saying, Alex, you can be instrumental in changing the public verdict. Do you understand, Alex? Have I made myself clear? Alex: As an unmuddied lake, Fred. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, Fred.

Alex: Initiative comes to thems that wait.

Alex: What we were after now was the old surprise visit. That was a real kick and good for laughs and lashings of the old ultraviolence.

Alex: We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it being a night of no small expenditure.

Alex: Viddy well, little brother. Viddy well.

Alex: There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim. And we sat in the Korova Milkbar, trying to make up our razudoks what to do with the evening. The Korova Milkbar sold milk-plus; milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and get you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence.

Alex: There was nothing I hated more than to see a filthy old drunkie, a-howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as if it were a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, especially when they were old like this one was.

Alex: Well, well, well! Well if it isn't fat stinking billy goat Billy Boy in poison! How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarble, ya eunuch jelly thou!

Alex: What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got, say, pitiful, portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper! Hear angels' trumpets and devils' trombones. You are invited!

Alex: So now it was to be Georgie the General, saying what we should do and what not to do, with Dim as his mindless grinning bulldog. But then I viddied that thinking is for the gloopy ones and the oomny ones use, like, inspiration and what Bog sends. For now it was lovely music that came to my aid, there was a window open with the stereo on and I viddied right at once what to do.

[Alex encounters his old friends, who are now police.] Alex DeLarge: It's impossible! I can't believe it! Georgie: Evidence of the ol' glassies! Nothing up our sleeves, no magic little Alex! A job for two who are now of job age! The police!

Alex DeLarge: Hi, hi, hi there! At last we meet. Our brief govoreet through the letter-hole was not, shall we say, satisfactory, yes?

Alex DeLarge: Naughty, naughty, naughty! You filthy old soomka!

Frank Alexander: Food alright? Alex DeLarge: Great sir, great! Frank Alexander: Try the wine!

Alex DeLarge: The Durango '95 purred away a real horrowshow. A nice warm vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts!

P.R. Deltoid: I've just come from the hospital; your victim has died. Alex DeLarge: You try to frighten me. Admit so, sir. This is some new form of torture. Say it, Brother Sir. P.R. Deltoid: It'll be your own torture. I hope to God it'll torture you to madness.

Alex DeLarge: No time for the old in-out, love, I've just come to read the meter.

Alex DeLarge: It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen.

Tramp: Go on, do me in, you bastard cowards! I don't want to live anyway, not in a stinking world like this one! Alex: Oh? And what's so stinking about it?