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Pic of the Day: “All right, let’s try this, your line, just say it as I say it, say your line exactly as I’m about to. Just as I’m about to do.” “Sure, okay.” “Would that it’were so simple.” “Would that ih twuuuuuuh so simple.” “Would that it’were so simple.” “Would that ih twuuuuuuh so simple.” “My dear boy, why do you say that? Why do you say, ‘twuuuuuh’?” “Well, you said, say it like I say it.” “Yes, but…” “Would that it twuuuuuuh, so simple.” “Would that it’were so simple.” “Would that it twuuuuuuh, so simple.” “Would that it…” “Would that it twuuuuuuh, so simple.” “No, no. Watch my mouth. Would that it’were so simple.” “Would that it twuuuuuuh, so simple.” “Keep your head still. Would that it’were so simple.” “Would that it twuuuuuuh, so simple.” “Would that it’were so simple. Would…” “I’m trying to say that, Mr. Laurentz.” “Laurence.” “Mm. I thought… a minute ago it was Laurentz.” “No. We can use Christian names, my good dear boy, Laurence is fine. Just as I call you Hobie?” “Okay.” “So. Would that it’were so simple.” “Would that it twuu…” “Put your hand down. Would that it’were so simple. Trippingly.” “Would that it twuuuuuuh, so simple. Trippingly.” “Don’t say trippingly. Say the line trippingly.” “Would that it twuuuuuuh…” (10th Anniversary)
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Pic of the Day: “Look Bart, barring a preference we’re going to put you on a wrestling picture, Wallace Beery. I say this because they tell me you know the poetry of the streets, so that would rule out westerns, pirate pictures, screwball, Bible, Roman… look, I’m not one of those guys who thinks poetic has got to be fruity. We’re together on that aren’t we? I mean I’m from New York myself, well, Minsk if you want to go all the way back. Which we won’t, if you don’t mind and I ain’t asking. Now people are going to say to you, Wallace Beery, wrestling, it’s a B picture. You tell them: BULLSHIT! We do NOT make B pictures here at Capitol. Let’s put a stop to that rumor RIGHT now!” (35th Anniversary)
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Pic of the Day. “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle. Life is but a walking shadow… a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot… full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” (5th Anniversary)
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