Poetry
Quotes
Monty Python's Flying Circus Quotes
Tell me, do you have any cheese at all?
Henry Wenslydale:
Yes.
Mr Mousebender:
Now I'm going to ask you the same question again, and if you say "No", I'm going to shoot you in the head. Do you have any cheese?
Henry Wenslydale: [contemplates]
Um, no.
Mr Mousebender: [shots Henry Wenslydale through the head]
What a senseless waste of human life.
Dr. Gumby: [normal voice]
Glasses.
[nurse gives him glasses]
Dr. Gumby:
Moustache.
[nurse gives him moustache]
Dr. Gumby:
Handkerchief.
[nurse puts Gumby handkerchief on his head]
Dr. Gumby: [in Gumby voice]
I'm going to operater, I'm going to operate...
[the other Gumbys join in]
T.F. Gumby: [waking up]
Hello?
Dr. Gumby:
We forgot the anaesthetic!
[Gumby comes crashing through the wall]
Gumby: [to T. F. Gumby]
I'm going to anaesthetize you!
[Gumby hits T. F. Gumby in the head with his anaesthetic tube]
Mr Mousebender:
Tell me, have you in fact got any cheese here at all?
Henry Wenslydale:
Yes, sir.
Mr Mousebender:
Really?
Henry Wenslydale:
No, not really, sir. Not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your time, sir.
Mr Mousebender:
Well I'm sorry but I'm afraid I'm going to have to shoot you.
Henry Wenslydale:
Right-o then.
[Mousebender draws a gun and shoots Wenslydale dead]
Mr Mousebender:
What a senseless waste of human life.
Bounder:
'Morning, I'm Bounder-Of-Adventure.
Mr Smoke-Too-Much:
Hello, I'm Smoke-Too-Much.
Bounder:
Well you'd better cut down a little then.
Mr Smoke-Too-Much:
I'm sorry?
Bounder:
You'd better cut down a little then.
Mr Smoke-Too-Much:
Oh oh, I see. Smoke too much, so I better cut down a little then.
Bounder:
Yes. I expect you get people making jokes about your name all the time, eh?
Mr Smoke-Too-Much:
No. I've never noticed it before.
Milkman:
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man. Good morning, madam, I'm a psychiatrist.
Mrs. Pim:
You look like a milkman to me.
Milkman: [ticks a box on his clipboard]
Good, I am in fact dressed as a milkman... you spotted that. Well done.
Mrs. Pim:
Go away.
Milkman:
Now then, madam, I'm going to show you three numbers and I want you to tell me if you notice any similarity between them.
[holds up a card with the number "3' on it three times]
Mrs. Pim:
They're all number three.
Milkman:
No. Try again.
Mrs. Pim:
They're *all* number three?
Milkman:
No. They're *all* number three.
[writes]
Milkman:
Right. Now, I'm going to say a word and I want you to say the first thing that comes into yout head. How many pints do you want?
Mrs. Pim:
Er... three?
Milkman:
Yoghurt?
Mrs. Pim:
Er... no.
Milkman:
Cream?
Mrs. Pim:
No.
Milkman:
Eggs?
Mrs. Pim:
No.
Milkman: [writes]
Right. Well, you're quite clearly suffering from a repressive libido complex, probably the product of an unhappy childhood, coupledwith acute insecurity in adolescence, which has resulted in an attenuation of the libido complex.
Mrs. Pim:
You *are* a bloody milkman!
Milkman:
Don't you shout at me, madam, don't come that tone. Now then, I must ask you to accompany me down to the dairy and do some aptitude tests.
Mrs. Pim:
I've got better things to do than come down to the dairy!
Milkman:
Mrs. Ratbag! If you don't mind my saying so, you are badly in need of an expensive course of psychiatric treatment. Now I'm not going to say that a trip down to our dairy will cure you, but it will give hundreds of lower-paid workers a good laugh.
Mrs. Pim:
All right... but how am I going to get home?
Milkman:
I'll run you there and back in my psychiatrist's float.
Mrs. Pim:
...All right.
Man:
That was not five minutes just now.
Mr. Vibrating:
I told you I'm not allowed to argue with you unless you've paid.
Man:
I just paid.
Mr. Vibrating:
No you haven't.
Man:
Yes I have.
Mr. Vibrating:
No you haven't.
Man:
Look, I don't want to argue about this.
Mr. Vibrating:
Well you didn't pay.
Man:
Aha! If I didn't pay, why are you arguing? See, I've got you.
Mr. Vibrating:
Not necessarily. I could be arguing in my spare time.
Man:
I've had enough of this.
Mr. Vibrating:
No you haven't.
T.F. Gumby:
Doctor? Doctor? DOCTOR!
[he bangs on a bell violently, eventually smashing it, as well as the desk and everything on it]
T.F. Gumby:
DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR!
Dr. Gumby: [enter Dr. Gumby]
Hello!
T.F. Gumby:
Are you the brain specialist?
Dr. Gumby: [thinks for a moment]
Hello!
T.F. Gumby:
Are you the brain specialist?
Dr. Gumby:
No. No, I am not the brain specialist. No I am not. Yes! Yes I am!
T.F. Gumby:
My brain hurts!
Dr. Gumby:
Well, let's take a look at it, Mr. Gumby.
[begins to lift Gumby's sweater]
T.F. Gumby:
No, no, no, my brain in my head.
Dr. Gumby: [thumps him on the head]
It will have to come out.
T.F. Gumby:
What? Out of my head?
Dr. Gumby:
Yes. All the bits of it.
Interviewer:
Good evening. Well, we have in the studio tonight a man who says things in a very roundabout way. Isn't that so, Mr Pudifoot?
Mr. Pudifoot:
Yes.
Interviewer:
Have you always said things in a very roundabout way?
Mr. Pudifoot:
Yes.
Interviewer:
Well, I can't help noticing that, for someone who claims to say things in a very roundabout way, your last two answers have had very little of the discursive quality about them.
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