Quotes

Dialogue

Renton: [Narrating] From time to time even I have uttered the magic words— Renton: Never again, Swanney. I'm off the skag. Swanney: Are you serious? Renton: Yeah, no more. I'm finished with that shite. Swanney: Well, it's up to you, man. Renton: Gonna get it right this time. Gonna get it sorted out. Gonna get off it for good. Swanney: I've heard that one before. Renton: The Sick Boy method. Swanney: [sarcastically] Well, it nearly worked for him, hey. Renton: Well, he's always been lacking in moral fibre. Swanney: He knows a lot about Sean Connery. Renton: That's hardly a substitute. Swanney: Do you need one more hit? Renton: No, I don't think so. Swanney: For the long night that lies ahead? Renton: [narrating] We called him "Mother Superior" on account of the length of his habit. Of course I'd have another shot. After all, I had work to do.

Dialogue

Renton: [narrating] This was typical of Mikey Forrester. In the normal run of things, I would have nothing to do with the cunt. But this was not the normal run of things. Renton: What the fuck are these?! Mikey Forrester: Opium suppositories. Ideal for your purposes. Slow release. Bring you down gradually. Custom fucking designed for your needs. Renton: I want a fucking hit! Mikey Forrester: That's all I've got, matey. Take it or leave it. Mikey Forrester: Aye, you feel better the now right? Renton: Oh, yeah, for all the good they've done me, I might as well have stuck them up my arse! Tommy: Doesn't it make you proud to be Scottish? Renton: It's SHITE being Scottish! We're the lowest of the low. The scum of the fucking Earth! The most wretched, miserable, servile, pathetic trash that was ever shat into civilisation. Some people hate the English. I don't. They're just wankers. We, on the other hand, are colonised by wankers. Can't even find a decent culture to be colonised by. We're ru

Dialogue

Renton: Good luck, Spud. Spud: Cheers, cowboy. Renton: Now remember, if they think you're not trying, you're in trouble, right? First hint of that, and they'll be onto the D.H.S.S., "This cunt is not trying." And your giro's fuckin' finished, right? Spud: Right. Renton: But, then again, try too hard-- Spud: You might get the fuckin' job. [Chuckles] Renton: Exactly. Spud: Nightmare. Renton: It's a tightrope, Spud. It's a fuckin' tightrope. Spud: See, I just get pure shy with the interviewer cats. I get all nervous. I can't answer any of their questions, like I'm a footballer... and I get nerves on the big occasion, man. Renton: Try some of this, Spud. [Produces a folded up paper of a stimulant powder] Spud: Yeah, a little dab of speed is just the ticket, mate. Spud: No, I went Craignewton. I just put down Royal Edinburgh College to help get the job. There's too much discrimination in this town, they're both schools, right? We're all in this together. And I wanted to put across the gener

Dialogue

Renton: Excuse me, excuse me. I don't mean to harass you, but I was very impressed with the capable and stylish manner in which you dealt with that situation. I was thinking to myself, now this girl's special. Diane: Thanks. Renton: What's your name? Diane: Diane. Renton: Where are you going, Diane? Diane: I'm going home. Renton: Where's that? Diane: It's where I live. Renton: Great. Diane: What? Renton: I'll come back with you if you like, but I'm not promising anything. Diane: Do you find that this approach usually works? Or, let me guess, you've never tried it before. In fact, you don't normally approach girls, am I right? The truth is that you're a quiet, sensitive type. But if I'm prepared to take a chance, I might just get to know the inner you: witty, adventurous, passionate, loving, loyal... Taxi! ...a little bit crazy, a little bit bad. But, hey, don't us girls just love that? Renton: Eh? Diane: Well... what's wrong, boy? Cat got your tongue? [enters taxicab] Renton: [confused

Dialogue

Sick Boy: It's certainly a phenomenon in all walks of life. Renton: What do you mean? Sick Boy: Well, at one time, you've got it, and then you lose it, and it's gone forever. All walks of life: George Best, for example. Had it, lost it. Or David Bowie. Or Lou Reed. Renton: Lou Reed, some of his solo stuff's not bad. Sick Boy: No, it's not bad. But it's not great either, is it? And in your heart you kind of know that although it sounds all right, it's actually just...shite. Renton: So who else? Sick Boy: Charlie Nicholas, David Niven, Malcolm McLaren, Elvis Presley... Renton: Okay, okay, so what's the point you're trying to make? Sick Boy: All I'm trying to do, Mark, is help you understand that The Name of the Rose is merely a blip on an otherwise uninterrupted downward trajectory. Renton: What about The Untouchables? Sick Boy: I don't rate that at all. Renton: Despite the Academy Award? Sick Boy: That means fuck all. It's a sympathy vote. Renton: Right. So we all get old and then we ca

Dialogue

Renton: What's on the menu this evening, sir? Swanney: Your favourite dish. Renton: Excellent. Swanney: Your usual table, sir. Renton: Oh, why, thank you. Swanney: Would sir care to pay for his bill in advance? Renton: No. Stick it on my tab. Swanney: Ah, regret to inform, sir, credit limit was reached and breached quite some time ago. Renton: Oh, well, in that case... [hands him some cash] Swanney: Oh, hard currency. Why, sir, that'll do nicely. Can't be too careful when we're dealing with your type, can we? Would sir care for a starter? Some garlic bread perhaps? Renton: No, thank you. I'll proceed directly to the intravenous injection of hard drugs, please. Swanney: As you wish sir, as you wish.

Dialogue

Dealer: So, how much would you like for this? Begbie: 20,000. Dealer: Well, I don't think it's worth more than 15. Renton: [narration] This was a real drag to him. He didn't need to negotiate. I mean, what the fuck were we going to do if he didn't buy it? Sell it on the streets? Fuck that. Begbie: Well... 19. Dealer: Terribly sorry, I can't go to 19. Begbie: [flustered] Well, fuckin' 16, then. Dealer: [chuckles] Okay. "Well, fuckin' 16" it is, then.

Dialogue

Mrs. Renton: We'll help you son. You'll stay here with us, till you get better. We're gonna beat this together. Renton: Maybe I-- Maybe I should go back to the clinic? Mrs. Renton: No. No clinics, no methadone. That only made you worse, you said so yourself. You lied to us son, your own mother and father! Renton: You could bring us some jellies. Mrs. Renton: No! You're worse coming off that than you are with the heroin. Nothing at all. Mr. Renton: It's a clean break this time. Mrs. Renton: You're staying here, where we can keep an eye on you. Renton: I appreciate what you're trying to do. I really do, but I just need one more score like. Just bring me one more hit. I need one more fucking hit! You fuck! Begbie: Well, that's a good fucking laugh, ain't it? You sweat that shite out of your system, 'cause I'll come back and it's still here, I'll fucking kick it out. Okay?

Dialogue

Diane: [narrating, while Renton is reading a letter from her] Dear Mark, I'm glad you've found a job and somewhere to live. School is fine at the moment. I'm not pregnant, but thanks for asking. Your friend Sick Boy asked me last week if I would like to work for him, but I told him where to go. I met Spud, who sends his regards, or at least I think that's what he said. No one seen Tommy for ages, and finally, Francis Begbie has been on television a lot this week, as he is wanted by the police, in connection with an armed robbery in a jewellers in Corstorphine. Take care. Yours with love, Diane. Diane: Francis Begbie. Renton: [realises it's Begbie] Oh no. Begbie: Armed robbery? What? With a replica? I mean, how can it be an armed robbery with a fucking replica? Fucking scandal. And the gear? Look! Supposed to be fucking solid silver, it's fucking garbage. There's young couples investing their hopes in that stuff and all. Renton: It's a scandal, Franco. Begbie: Too fucking right that is!

Dialogue

Begbie: Did you bring the cards? Sick Boy: What? Begbie: The cards, the last thing I told you was to mind the cards! Sick Boy: Well, I've not brought them. Begbie: It's fucking boring after a while without the cards. Sick Boy: I'm sorry. Begbie: Bit fucking late, like. Sick Boy: Why didn't you bring them? Begbie: 'Cause I fucking told you to bring them, you doss cunt! Sick Boy: Christ...

Dialogue

Renton: Getting out much, Tommy? Tommy: No. Renton: Following the game at all? Tommy: No. Renton: Nah, me neither, really. Tommy: Did you take the test? Renton: Aye. Tommy: Clear? Renton: Aye. Tommy: That's nice. Renton: I'm sorry, Tommy. Tommy: Got any gear on you? Renton: No, I'm clean, man. Tommy: Well, sub us then, mate. I'm expecting a rent check. Tommy: Thanks, Mark. Renton: No bother. No bother. None at all. Not for me, anyway. Still, it's easy to be philosophical when other poor cunt with shite for blood.

Dialogue

Renton: What do you want? Diane: Are you clean? Renton: Yes! Diane: Is that a promise, then? Renton: Yes it is, as a matter of fact! Diane: Calm down, I'm only asking. Is that hash I can smell? Renton: No. Diane: I wouldn't mind a bit if it is. Renton: Well, it isn't. Diane: Smells like it. Renton: You're too young. Diane: I'm too young for what? Diane: You're not getting any younger, Mark. The world is changing. Music's changing, even drugs are changing. You can't stay here all day dreaming about heroin and Ziggy Pop. Renton: It's Iggy Pop. Diane: Whatever. I mean, the guy is dead anyway. Renton: Iggy Pop is not dead. He toured last year. Tommy went to see him. Diane: The point is, you've got to find something new. Renton: [narrating] She was right, I had to find something new. There was only one thing for it.