Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998)

Raoul Duke: You can turn your back on a person, but, never turn your back on a drug. Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye.

[Watching Dr. Gonzo leave.] Raoul Duke: There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.

Dr. Gonzo: We've gotta get out of here. I have The Fear.

Raoul Duke: Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a main era---the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.

Raoul Duke: There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.

Raoul Duke: History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of "history" it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time---and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.

Raoul Duke: With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know.

[at a bizarre circus-themed casino] Raoul Duke: Bazooko's Circus is what the world would be doing every Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war.

'Uncle' Raoul Duke: Look, there's two women fucking a polar bear!

'Uncle' Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?

'Uncle' Raoul Duke: A drug person can learn to handle such things as seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth. But no one should be asked to deal with this trip.

Raoul S. Duke: Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. Your normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop-heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow.

Clerk at Mint Hotel: Can I call you a cab? Police Chief: Sure, and I'll call you a cocksucker!

Narrator: We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like: Raoul Duke: I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe you should drive. Narrator: Suddenly, there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full with what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, and a voice was screaming: Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?! Acosta: Did you say something? Raoul Duke: Hm? Nevermind. It's your turn to drive. Narrator: No point in mentioning these bats, I thought. Poor bastard will see them soon enough.

Narrator: We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.

Acosta: [singing] Let's give the boy a lift. Raoul Duke: What? No! We can't stop here! This is bat country!

Hitchhiker: Hot damn! I never rode in a convertible before! Raoul Duke: Is that right? Well... I guess you're about ready, then, aren't you? Acosta: We're your friends. We're not like the others, man, really. Raoul Duke: No more of that talk or I'll put the fucking leeches on you, understand? Acosta: Heh heh heh... Raoul Duke: Get in!

Acosta: It's okay. He's just admiring the shape of your skull.

Narrator: Perhaps, if I explained things, he'd rest easy.

Raoul Duke: Let's get down to brass tacks. How much for the ape?

Dr. Gonzo: You drive. You drive. I think there's something wrong with me.

Raoul Duke: You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.