Midnight Cowboy

Annie: Do you love me Joe? Do you love me? Love me? You're the only one Joe. You're the only one. You're better Joe. You're better than the rest of 'em. You're better than any of them Joe. You love me Joe. You're better than all of 'em. You're the best Joe. Shirley: Like, uh, say, hay, lay, hay, hey, lay, hmmm...gay ends in y. Hmmm? Do you like that?...Gay, fey. Is that your problem, baby? Bus driver: Okay, folks, everything's all right. Nothing to worry about...Okay folks, nothin' to worry about. Just a little illness. We'll be in Miami in just a few minutes.

Midnight Cowboy, CC BY-SA 4.0

Cass: I hate to ask you, but you're such a doll. Joe: You know, Cass, that's a funny thing you mentioning money. 'Cause I was just about to ask you for some. Cass: You were gonna ask me for money? Huh? Joe: Hell, why do you think I come all the way up here from Texas for? Cass: You were gonna ask me for oney? Who the hell do you think you're dealing with? Some old slut on 42nd Street? In case you didn't happen to notice it, ya big Texas longhorn bull, I'm one helluva gorgeous chick. Joe: Now, Cass, take it easy. Cass: You heard it. At twenty-eight years old. You think you can come up here, and pull this kind of crap up here! Well, you're out of your mind!

Midnight Cowboy, CC BY-SA 4.0

Joe: You really know the ropes! Damn, I wish I'd bumped into you before. Ratso: You're pickin' trade up on the street like that. That's nowhere. I mean, you gotta get yourself some kind of management. You need my friend O'Daniel. He operates the biggest stable in town, in fact, in the whole god-damned Metropolitan area. It's stupid a stud like you paying. You don't want to be stupid.

Midnight Cowboy, CC BY-SA 4.0

Joe: [about Ratso's food] Smells worse hot than it did cold. Ratso: All right, startin' tomorrow, you cook your own god-damn dinner. Or you get one of your rich Park Avenue ladies to cook for you in her penthouse.

Midnight Cowboy, CC BY-SA 4.0

Ratso: I gotta get outta here, gotta get outta here. Miami Beach, that's where you could score. Anybody can score there, even you. In New York, no rich lady with any class at all buys that cowboy crap anymore. They're laughin' at you on the street. Joe: Ain't nobody laughin' at me on the street. Ratso: Behind your back, I've seen 'em laughin' at you, fella. Joe: Aw, what the hell you know about women anyway? When's the last time you scored, boy? Ratso: That's a matter I only talk about at confession. We're not talkin' about me now. Joe: And when's the last time you've been to confession? Ratso: It's between me and my confessor. And I'll tell ya another thing. Frankly, you're beginning to smell. And for a stud in New York, that's a handicap. Joe: Well, don't talk to me about clean. I ain't never seen you change your underwear once the whole time I've been here in New York. And that's pretty peculiar behavior. Ratso: I don't have to do that kind of thing in public. I ain't got no need to

Midnight Cowboy, CC BY-SA 4.0

Joe: There you go boy, there's money for ya, that's nine dollars right there plus assorted change, minus 26 cents for milk, plus 5 cents for Dentyne - gum. Ratso: Where you been, 42nd Street? That's where you've been. Joe: Buy yourself some medicine before you die in my damn hands.

Midnight Cowboy, CC BY-SA 4.0