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I don’t blame ya! Damn good deal! And that purty little nest you feathered for yourself. Well, if you’re willing to barbecue the whole high command, I ‘spose that’s worth certain considerations. But I do have one question. When you get to your little place on Nantucket Island, I ‘magine you’re gonna take off that handsome-lookin’ S.S. uniform of yours, ain'tcha?… That’s what I thought. Now that I can’t abide. How ‘bout you Utivich, can you abide it? Not one damn bit, sir. I mean, if I had my way… you’d wear that goddamn uniform for the rest of your pecker-suckin’ life. But I’m aware that ain’t practical, I mean at some point you’re gonna hafta take it off. So. I’m ‘onna give you a little somethin’ you can’t take off.
Inglourious Basterds (2009) dir. Quentin Tarantino
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“Estamos tan acostumbrados a las palabras vacías, que nos dicen algo profundo y no sabemos si reír o creer.”
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“Acuestate en mis piernas, mientras juego con tu cabello.”
— dni. (via cor-ta)
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