Fight Club quotes

Quotes from the movie Fight Club,the best Fight Club quotes,hope you like.and share it.

 

Tyler Durden: It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

 

Tyler Durden: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever 

lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire 

generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us 

chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're 

the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No 

Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives. 

We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, 

and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And 

we're very, very pissed off.

 

Narrator: This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

 

Tyler Durden: The things you own end up owning you.

 

Tyler Durden: Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or 

unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

 

Tyler Durden: You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. 

You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your 

fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

 

Tyler Durden: Welcome to Fight Club. The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk 

about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club! 

Third rule of Fight Club: someone yells "stop!", goes limp, taps out, the fight is 

over. Fourth rule: only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule: one fight at a time, fellas. 

Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: fights will go on as long as they have 

to. And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first time at Fight Club, you have 

to fight.

 

Narrator: A new car built by my company leaves somewhere traveling at 60 mph. The rear 

differential locks up. The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now, 

should we initiate a recall? Take the number of vehicles in the field, A, multiply by 

the probable rate of failure, B, multiply by the average out-of-court settlement, C. A 

times B times C equals X. If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one.
Business woman on plane: Are there a lot of these kinds of accidents?
Narrator: You wouldn't believe.
Business woman on plane: Which car company do you work for?
Narrator: A major one.

 

Tyler Durden: Now, a question of etiquette – as I pass, do I give you the ass or the 

crotch?

 

Narrator: When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep… and you're never really 

awake.

 

Narrator: On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

 

Narrator: I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.

 

Narrator: [reading] I am Jack's colon.
Tyler Durden: I get cancer, I kill Jack.

 

Tyler Durden: Warning: If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word 

you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have 

other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way 

to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect 

and credence to all that claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do 

you think every thing you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told to want? Get out 

of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and 

masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your 

humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned- Tyler.

 

Tyler Durden: [pointing at an emergency instruction manual on a plane] You know why 

they put oxygen masks on planes?
Narrator: So you can breathe.
Tyler Durden: Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant 

panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It's all 

right here. Emergency water landing – 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu 

cows.
Narrator: That's, um… That's an interesting theory.

 

Narrator: Tyler, what the fuck is going on here?
Tyler Durden: I ask you for one thing, one simple thing.
Narrator: Why do people think that I'm you? Answer me!
Tyler Durden: Sit.
Narrator: Now answer me, why do people think that I'm you.
Tyler Durden: I think you know.
Narrator: No, I don't.
Tyler Durden: Yes, you do. Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?
Narrator: Uh… I… I don't know.
[Random flashbacks]
Tyler Durden: You got it.
Narrator: No.
Tyler Durden: Say it.
Narrator: Because…
Tyler Durden: Say it.
Narrator: Because we're the same person.
Tyler Durden: That's right.

 

Narrator: And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and 

complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

 

Tyler Durden: We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman 

is really the answer we need.

 

Narrator: [while brutally beating Angel Face] I felt like putting a bullet between the 

eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump 

valves on oil tankers and smother all the French beaches I'd never see. I wanted to 

breathe smoke.

 

Narrator: You're making a big mistake, fellas!
Police Officer: You said you would say that.
Narrator: I'm not Tyler Durden!
Police Officer: You told us you'd say that, too.
Narrator: All right then, I'm Tyler Durden. Listen to me, I'm giving you a direct 

order. We're aborting this mission right now.
Police Officer: You said you would definitely say that.

 

Tyler Durden: Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say 

never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let… lets evolve, let the chips 

fall where they may.

 

Narrator: I am Jack's smirking revenge.

 

Tyler Durden: Hey, you created me. I didn't create some loser alter-ego to make myself 

feel better. Take some responsibility!

 

Tyler Durden: Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Raymond K. Hessel's life. His 

breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted.

 

[Poem on Narrator’s computer]
Narrator: Worker bees can leave. Even drones can fly away. The Queen is their slave.

 

Narrator: [about the soap] Tyler sold his soap to department stores at $20 a bar. Lord 

knows what they charged. It was beautiful. We were selling rich women their own fat 

asses back to them.

 

Tyler Durden: Do you know what a duvet is?
Narrator: It's a comforter…
Tyler Durden: It's a blanket. Just a blanket. Now why do guys like you and me know what 

a duvet is? Is this essential to our survival, in the hunter-gatherer sense of the 

word? No. What are we then?
Narrator: …Consumers?
Tyler Durden: Right. We are consumers. We're the bi-products of a lifestyle obsession.

 

Narrator: It's called a changeover. The movie goes on, and nobody in the audience has 

any idea.

 

Tyler Durden: Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So 

be it!
Narrator: OK. Give me some water!
Tyler Durden: Listen, you can run water over your hand and make it worse or…
[shouts]
Tyler Durden: look at me… or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn.
Narrator: Please let me have it… *Please*!
Tyler Durden: First you have to give up, first you have to *know*… not fear… 

*know*… that someday you're gonna die.

 

[while burning the Narrator’s hand with lye]
Tyler Durden: Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what 

does that tell you about God?
Narrator: No, no, I… don't…
Tyler Durden: Listen to me! You have to consider the possibility that God does not like 

you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing 

that can happen.
Narrator: It isn't?
Tyler Durden: We don't need him!

 

[last lines]
Narrator: You met me at a very strange time in my life.

 

Narrator: When people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of 

just…
Marla Singer:
instead of just waiting for their turn to speak?

 

Tyler Durden: It could be worse. A woman could cut off your penis while you're sleeping 

and toss it out the window of a moving car.
Narrator: There's always that.

 

Marla Singer: I got this dress at a thrift store for one dollar.
Narrator: It was worth every penny.
Marla Singer: It's a bridesmaid's dress. Someone loved it intensely for one day, and 

then tossed it. Like a Christmas tree. So special. Then, bam, it's on the side of the 

road.
[Grabs Narrator’s crotch]
Marla Singer: Tinsel still clinging to it. Like a sex crime victim. Underwear inside 

out. Bound with electrical tape.
Narrator: Well, then it suits you.
Marla Singer: You can borrow it sometime.

 

Narrator: Well, what do you want me to do? You just want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: C'mon, do me this one favor.
Narrator: Why?
Tyler Durden: Why? I don't know why; I don't know. Never been in a fight. You?
Narrator: No, but that's a good thing.
Tyler Durden: No, it is not. How much can you know about yourself, you've never been in 

a fight? I don't wanna die without any scars. So come on; hit me before I lose my 

nerve.
Narrator: This is crazy.
Tyler Durden: So go crazy. Let 'er rip.
Narrator: I don't know about this.
Tyler Durden: I don't either. Who gives a shit? No one's watching. What do you care?
Narrator: Whoa, wait, this is crazy. You want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: That's right.
Narrator: What, like in the face?
Tyler Durden: Surprise me.
Narrator: This is so fucking stupid…
[Narrator swings, connects against Tyler’s head]
Tyler Durden: Motherfucker! You hit me in the ear!
Narrator: Well, Jesus, I'm sorry.
Tyler Durden: Ow, Christ… why the ear, man?
Narrator: Guess I fucked it up…
Tyler Durden: No, that was perfect!

 

Narrator: Is Tyler my bad dream? Or am I Tyler's?

 

Richard Chesler: [Reading a piece of paper] The first rule of Fight Club is you don't 

talk about Fight Club?
Narrator: [Voice-over] I'm half asleep again; I must've left the original in the copy 

machine.
Richard Chesler: The second rule of Fight Club – is this yours?
Narrator: Huh?
Richard Chesler: Pretend you're me, make a managerial decision: you find this, what 

would you do?
Narrator: [pauses] Well, I gotta tell you: I'd be very, very careful who you talk to 

about that, because the person who wrote that… is dangerous.
[Gets up from the chair]
Narrator: [Talking slowly] And this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap, 

and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-

automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might 

be someone you've known for years. Someone very, very close to you.
Narrator: [Voice-over] Tyler's words coming out of my mouth.
[Snatches the piece of paper from boss’ hands]
Narrator: [Voice-over] And I used to be such a nice guy.
Narrator: Or maybe you shouldn't bring me every little piece of trash you happen to 

pick up.
[Phone rings]
Narrator: [Into phone] Compliance and Liability…?
Marla Singer: My tit's gonna rot off.
Narrator: [to boss] Would you excuse me? I need to take this.

 

Tyler Durden: Where'd you go, psycho boy?
Narrator: I felt like destroying something beautiful.

 

Narrator: You wake up at Seatac, SFO, LAX. You wake up at O'Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, 

BWI. Pacific, mountain, central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, and 

it's ending one minute at a time. You wake up at Air Harbor International. If you wake 

up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

 

[after vigorous sex with Tyler Durden]
Marla Singer: My God. I haven't been fucked like that since grade school.

 

Narrator: Marla's philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, 

she said, was that she didn't.

 

Narrator: This is crazy…
Tyler Durden: People do it everyday, they talk to themselves… they see themselves as 

they'd like to be, they don't have the courage you have, to just run with it.

 

Narrator: If I did have a tumor, I'd name it Marla.

 

Marla Singer: …Condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip one on when 

you meet a stranger. You dance all night… then you throw it away. The condom, I mean, 

not the stranger.
Narrator: What?

 

[about attending support groups for diseases she doesn’t have]
Marla Singer: It's cheaper than a movie, and there's free coffee.

 

Narrator: If you wake up at a different time in a different place, could you wake up as 

a different person?

 

Tyler Durden: My dad never went to college, so it was real important that I go.
Narrator: Sounds familiar.
Tyler Durden: So I graduate, I call him up long distance, I say "Dad, now what?" He 

says, "Get a job."
Narrator: Same here.
Tyler Durden: Now I'm 25, make my yearly call again. I say Dad, "Now what?" He says, "I 

don't know, get married."
Narrator: I can't get married, I'm a 30 year old boy.
Tyler Durden: We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman 

is really the answer we need.

 

Narrator: Oh, it's late. Hey, thanks for the beer.
Tyler Durden: Yeah, man.
Narrator: I should find a hotel.
Tyler Durden: [in disbelief] What?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: A hotel?
Narrator: Yeah.
Tyler Durden: Just ask, man.
Narrator: What are you talking about?
Tyler Durden: [laughs] Three pitchers of beer, and you still can't ask.
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: You call me because you need a place to stay.
Narrator: Oh, hey, no, no, no, I didn't mean…
Tyler Durden: Yes, you did. So just ask. Cut the foreplay and just ask.
Narrator: Would – would that be a problem?
Tyler Durden: Is it a problem for you to ask?
Narrator: Can I stay at your place?
Tyler Durden: Yeah.

 

Narrator: [to Tyler, while looking at a Calvin Klein-esque ad on the bus] Is that what 

a real man is supposed to look like?

 

[Tyler and Narrator are discussing ideal opponents]
Tyler Durden: OK: any historic figure.
Narrator: I'd fight Gandhi.
Tyler Durden: Good answer.
Narrator: How about you?
Tyler Durden: Lincoln.
Narrator: Lincoln?
Tyler Durden: Big guy, big reach. Skinny guys fight 'til they're burger.

 

Narrator: A guy who came to Fight Club for the first time, his ass was a wad of cookie 

dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood.

 

Narrator: Everywhere I travel, tiny life. Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream, 

single pat of butter. The microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit. Shampoo-conditioner combos, 

sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on each flight? They're 

single-serving friends.

 

Narrator: Look, nobody takes this more seriously than me. That condo was my life, okay? 

I loved every stick of furniture in that place. That was not just a bunch of stuff that 

got destroyed, it was ME!
[voice-over]
Narrator: I'd like to thank the Academy…

 

Marla Singer: You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

 

Tyler Durden: [the Narrator is trying to disarm a car bomb of nitroglycerin] You don't 

know which wire to pull.
Narrator: I know everything you do, so if you know I know.
Tyler Durden: Or maybe, since I knew you'd know I spent all days thinking about the 

wrong wires.
[Narrator pauses]

 

Doctor: You wanna see pain? Swing by First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the guys with 

testicular cancer. That's pain.

 

Lou: [Lou hits Tyler in the face] Do you hear me now?
Tyler Durden: No, I didn't quite catch that, Lou.
[Lou hits Tyler again]
Tyler Durden: Still not getting it.
[Lou hits Tyler a few more times]
Tyler Durden: Ok, I got it. Shit, I lost it.
[Lou continues to beat up Tyler]


Tyler Durden: In the world I see – you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests 

around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you 

the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears 

Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of 

venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.

 

Narrator: I am Jack's wasted life.

 

[to the Narrator who has just fired a warning shot into the window of an explosives 

filled van]
Tyler Durden: WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Ok, you are now firing a gun at your 'imaginary friend' 

near 400 GALLONS OF NITROGLYCERINE!

 

Narrator: Every evening I died, and every evening I was born again, resurrected.

 

Narrator: Clean food, please.
Waiter: In that case, sir, may I advise against the lady eating clam chowder?
Narrator: No clam chowder, thank you.

 

Narrator: Bob is dead, they shot him in the head!
Tyler Durden: You wanna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs.

 

Tyler Durden: This is your pain. This is your burning hand. It's right here. Look at 

it.
Narrator: I'm going to my cave. I'm going to my cave and I'm going to find my power 

animal.
Tyler Durden: No! Don't deal with this the way those dead people do. Deal with it the 

way a living person does.

 

Narrator: You had to give it to him: he had a plan. And it started to make sense, in a 

Tyler sort of way. No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not 

matter truly slide.

 

Tyler Durden: I look around, I look around, I see a lot of new faces.
[crowd laughing]
Tyler Durden: Shut up. Which means a lot of you have been breaking the first two rules 

of Fight Club.

 

[meeting aboard an airliner]
Narrator: What do you do for a living?
Tyler Durden: Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?

 

Narrator: I ran. I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I 

ran some more.

 

Narrator: I can't get married – I'm a thirty-year-old boy.

 

Richard Chesler: Get the fuck out of here, you're fired!
Narrator: I have a better solution. You keep me on the payroll as an outside consultant 

and in exchange for my salary, my job will be never to tell people these things that I 

know. I don't even have to come into the office, I can do this job from home.

 

Narrator: Tyler's not here. Tyler went away. Tyler's gone.

 

Narrator: I've found a new one. For men *only*.
Marla Singer: Oh, is it a testicle thing?

 

Narrator: With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of 

a copy of a copy.

 

Tyler Durden: Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

 

Tyler Durden: Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing. Like the first 

monkey shot into space.

 

Narrator: I'll tell you: we'll split up the week, okay? You take lymphoma, and 

tuberculosis…
Marla Singer: You take tuberculosis. My smoking doesn't go over at all.
Narrator: Okay, good, fine. Testicular cancer should be no contest, I think.
Marla Singer: Well, technically, I have more of a right to be there than you. You still 

have your balls.
Narrator: You're kidding.
Marla Singer: I don't know… am I?
Narrator: No, no! What do you want?
Marla Singer: I'll take the parasites.
Narrator: You can't have both the parasites, but while you take the blood parasites…
Marla Singer: I want brain parasites.
Narrator: I'll take the blood parasites. But I'm gonna take the organic brain dementia, 

okay?
Marla Singer: I want that.
Narrator: You can't have the whole brain, that's…
Marla Singer: So far you have four, I only have two!
Narrator: Okay. Take both the parasites. They're yours. Now we both have three…
Marla Singer: So, we each have three… that's six. What about the seventh day? I want 

ascending bowel cancer.
Narrator: [Narrating] The girl had done her homework.
Narrator: No. No, I WANT bowel cancer.
[the clerk gives them both a weird look]
Marla Singer: That's your favorite too? Tried to slip it by me, eh?

 

Narrator: What are we doing tonight?
Tyler Durden: Tonight? We make soap.
Narrator: Really.
Tyler Durden: To make soap, first we render fat.

 

Tyler Durden: I'll bring us through this. As always. I'll carry you – kicking and 

screaming – and in the end you'll thank me.

 

Narrator: We have front row seats for this theatre of mass destruction. The demolitions 

committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of a dozen buildings with 

blasting gelatin. In two minutes primary charges will blow base charges and a few 

square blocks will be reduced to smoldering rubble. I know this, because Tyler knows 

this.

 

[the Narrator’s apartment has just been blown to pieces]
Narrator: I had it all. I had a stereo that was very decent, a wardrobe that was 

getting very respectable. I was close to being complete.
Tyler Durden: Shit man, now it's all gone.

 

Narrator: You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.

 

Narrator: I am Jack's broken heart.

 

Narrator: I know it seems like I have more than one side sometimes…
Marla Singer: More than one side? You're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!

 

Tyler Durden: [to the police chief] Hi. You're going to call off your rigorous 

investigation. You're going to publicly state that there is no underground group. Or… 

these guys are going to take your balls. They're going to send one to the New York 

Times, one to the LA Times press-release style. Look, the people you are after are the 

people you depend on. We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we 

drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep. Do not… fuck with us.

 

Narrator: You're insane.
Tyler Durden: No, you're insane.

 

Narrator: Most of the week we were Ozzie and Harriet, but every Saturday night we were 

finding something out: we were finding out more and more that we were not alone. It 

used to be that when I came home angry and depressed I'd just clean my condo, polish my 

Scandinavian furniture. I should have been looking for a new condo. I should have been 

haggling with my insurance company. I should have been upset about my nice, neat, 

flaming little shit. But I wasn't.

 

Tyler Durden: Fight Club was the beginning, now it's moved out of the basement, it's 

called Project Mayhem.

 

Tyler Durden: All right, if the applicant is young, tell him he's too young. Old, too 

old. Fat, too fat. If the applicant then waits for three days without food, shelter, or 

encouragement he may then enter and begin his training.

 

Narrator: Marla… the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only 

you could stop tonguing it, but you can't.

 

Narrator: Tyler, I'm grateful to you; for everything that you've done for me. But this 

is too much. I don't want this.
Tyler Durden: What do you want? Wanna go back to the shit job, fuckin' condo world, 

watching sitcoms? Fuck you, I won't do it.

 

Tyler Durden: [the Narrator places the gun under his chin and cocks back the hammer] 

Now why would you want to go and blow your head off?
Narrator: Not my head, Tyler, *our* head.

 

Narrator: I wrote little haiku poems. I emailed them to everyone.

 

Tyler Durden: [Robbing a liposuction clinic] The richest, creamiest fat in the world. 

The fat of the land.

 

Narrator: I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

 

Tyler Durden: This isn't love, it's sport fucking.

 

Lou: Reject the basic assumption of civilization, especially the importance of material 

possessions.

 

Marla Singer: There are things about you that I like. You're smart, you're funny, 

you're… spectacular in bed… But you're intolerable! You have very serious emotional 

problems. Deep seated problems for which you should seek professional help.
Narrator: I know, and I'm sorry…
Marla Singer: Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry, everybody's sorry, but… I can't do this 

anymore. I can't. And I won't. I'm gone.

 

[Holding up a wad of cash]
Marla Singer: You're not getting this back. I consider it asshole tax.

 

Narrator: Except for their humping, Tyler and Marla were never in the same room. My 

parents pulled this exact same act for years.

 

[first lines]
[Tyler points a gun into the Narrator’s mouth]
Narrator: [voiceover] People are always asking me if I know Tyler Durden.
Tyler Durden: Three minutes. This is it – ground zero. Would you like to say a few 

words to mark the occasion?
Narrator: …i… ann… iinn… ff… nnyin…
Narrator: [voiceover] With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.
[Tyler removes the gun from the Narrator’s mouth]
Narrator: I can't think of anything.
Narrator: [voiceover] For a second I totally forgot about Tyler's whole controlled 

demolition thing and I wonder how clean that gun is.

 

Tyler Durden: God Damn! We just had a near-life experience, fellas.

 

Tyler Durden: You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.

 

First Man at Auto Shop: Here's where the infant's head went through the wind-shield. 

Three points.
Man #2 at Auto Shop: The teenager's braces are still wrapped around the backseat 

ashtray. Might make a good anti-smoking ad.
First Man at Auto Shop: The driver must have been huge, see where the fat burned to the 

seat? The polyester shirt? Very modern art.

 

Narrator: Life insurance pays off triple if you die on a business trip.

 

Members of Fight Club: [chanting] His name is Robert Paulson.

 

Tyler Durden: Self improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction…

 

Narrator: What do you do?
Tyler Durden: What do you mean?
Narrator: What do you do for a living?
Tyler Durden: Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?

 

Narrator: [looking at a Calvin Klein ad on a bus] Is that what a man looks like?
Tyler Durden: [laughs] Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction…

 

Narrator: [Tyler steers the car into the opposite lane and accelerates] What are you 

doing?
Tyler Durden: Guys, what would you wish you'd done before you died?
Ricky: Paint a self-portrait.
The Mechanic: Build a house.
Tyler Durden: [to Narrator] And you?
Narrator: I don't know. Turn the wheel now, come on!
Tyler Durden: You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how 

would you feel about your life?
Narrator: I don't know, I wouldn't feel anything good about my life, is that what you 

want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler Durden: Not good enough.

 

Marla Singer: Your whacked out bald freaks hit me with a fucking broom! They almost 

broke my arm! They were burning their fingertips with lye, the stink was unbelievable!

 

Tyler Durden: Fuck what you know. You need to forget about what you know, that's your 

problem. Forget about what you think you know about life, about friendship, and 

especially about you and me.

 

Tyler Durden: [his face is soaked in blood; he is shaking it over Lou and screaming] 

You don't know where I've been. You don't know where I've been. Just let us have the 

basement, Lou!

 

Police Officer: You said that if anyone ever interferes with Project Mayhem, even you, 

we gotta get his balls.

 

Narrator: I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, 

proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of… 

wherever.

 

Tyler Durden: Did you know that if you mix equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange 

juice concentrate you can make napalm?
Narrator: No, I did not know that; is that true?
Tyler Durden: That's right… One could make all kinds of explosives, using simple 

household items.
Narrator: Really…?
Tyler Durden: If one were so inclined.
Narrator: Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I've ever 

met… see I have this thing: everything on a plane is single-serving…
Tyler Durden: Oh I get it, it's very clever.
Narrator: Thank you.
Tyler Durden: How's that working out for you?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: Being clever.
Narrator: Great.
Tyler Durden: Keep it up then… Right up.
[Gets up from airplane seat]
Tyler Durden: Now a question of etiquette; as I pass, do I give you the ass or the 

crotch…?

 

Richard Chesler: Is that your blood?
Narrator: Some of it, yeah.

 

[Of Marla]
Tyler Durden: She's a predator posing as a house pet.

 

Marla Singer: [after taking a bottle of sleeping pills] This isn't a real suicide-

thing. This is probably one of those cry-for-help things.

 

Lou: I'm fucking Lou. Who the fuck are you?

 

Ricky: [to Bob, while interviewing for applicants] You're too old, fat man.
[to Angel Face]
Ricky: And you, you are too fucking… *blonde*!

 

Tyler Durden: *slaps the Narrator, throws away goggles* Listen to me! You have to 

consider the possibility that God does not like you, never wanted you, and in all 

probability, he HATES you. It's not the worst thing that can happen.
Narrator: It isn't?
Tyler Durden: We don't NEED Him!
Narrator: *squirms* We don't – we don't – !
Tyler Durden: Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We're God's unwanted children, SO 

BE IT!

 

Narrator: By the end of the first month, I didn't miss TV.

 

Robert 'Bob' Paulson: Go ahead, Cornelius, you can cry.

 

Narrator: First person that comes out this fucking door gets a… gets a *lead salad*, 

you understand?

 

Narrator: I am Jack's cold sweat.

 

Narrator: I want bowel cancer.

 

Narrator: I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.

 

Narrator: Was it ticking?
Airport Security Officer: Actually throwers don't worry about ticking 'cause modern 

bombs don't tick.
Narrator: Sorry, throwers?
Airport Security Officer: Baggage handlers. But, when a suitcase vibrates, then the 

throwers gotta call the police.
Narrator: My suitcase was vibrating?
Airport Security Officer: Nine times out of ten it's an electric razor, but every once 

in a while…
[whispering]
Airport Security Officer: it's a dildo. Of course it's company policy never to, imply 

ownership in the event of a dildo… always use the indefinite article a dildo, never 

your dildo.
Narrator: I don't own…
[Officer waves Narrator off]

 

Tyler Durden: The salt balance has to be just right, so the best fat for making soap 

comes from humans.
Narrator: Wait. What is this place?
Tyler Durden: A liposuction clinic.

 

[while the narrator is on the phone with the police]
Tyler Durden: Tell him. Tell him, The liberator who destroyed my property has realigned 

my perceptions.

 

Narrator: And then, Tyler was gone.

 

Narrator: Hello?
Tyler Durden: [Eating breakfast cereal] Who is this?
Narrator: Tyler?
Tyler Durden: Who is this?
Narrator: Uh… we met… we met on the airplane. We had the same suitcase. Uh… the 

clever guy?
Tyler Durden: Oh yeah, right.
[Snickers]
Tyler Durden: Ok?
Narrator: I called a second ago, th – there was no answer, I'm at the payphone…
Tyler Durden:
yeah, I *69ed you, I never pick up my phone.
[Crunch, crunch]
Tyler Durden: So what's up, huh?
Narrator: Uh, well… You're not gonna believe this…

 

Tyler Durden: Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat. It's not a goddamn seminar. Stop 

trying to control everything and just let go! LET GO!

 

Narrator: Deja vu – all over again.

 

Narrator: He was full of pep. Must've had his grande-latte enema.

 

Narrator: We have just lost cabin pressure.

 

Narrator: Bob loved me because he thought my testicles were removed too. Being there, 

pressed against his tits, ready to cry. This was my vacation… and she ruined 

*everything*.
Marla Singer: This is cancer, right?
Narrator: This chick Marla Singer did not have testicular cancer. She was a liar. She 

had no diseases at all. I had seen her at Free and Clear, my blood parasite group 

Thursdays. Then at Hope, my bi-monthly sickle cell circle. And again at Seize the Day, 

my tuberculous Friday night. Marla… the big tourist. Her lie reflected my lie. 

Suddenly, I felt nothing. I couldn't cry, so once again I couldn't sleep.

 

[while narrator is on the phone]
Tyler Durden: Reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance 

of material possessions.

 

Tyler Durden: You're too old, fat man. Your tits are too big.
[Tyler walks away, throwing his cigarette]
Tyler Durden: Get the fuck off my porch.

 

Narrator: If I didn't say anything, people always assumed the worst.

 

[after giving Marla a breast exam]
Marla Singer: I wish I could return the favor.
Narrator: There's not a lot of breast cancer in the men in my family.
Marla Singer: I could check your prostate.

 

Angel Face: Bury him in the garden. Come on people, let's go!
Narrator: Get away from him! Get the fuck away!
Angel Face: He was killed serving Project Mayhem, sir.
Narrator: This is Bob. He was a decent man, and we're not gonna bury him in the fucking 

garden!

 

Angel Face: [the Narrator is about to look at some files but Angel Face stops him] 

Don't worry. It's all taken care of, sir.

 

The Mechanic: In death, a member of project mayhem has a name, his name is Robert 

Paulsen. His name is Robert Paulsen. His name is Robert Paulsen. His name is Robert 

Paulsen…

 

Tyler Durden: Would you like to say a few words to mark the occasion?
Narrator: mumbles…
Tyler Durden: I'm sorry…
Narrator: I still can't think of anything.
Tyler Durden: Ah… flashback humor.

 

[after meeting and having sex with Marla]
Tyler Durden: Man, you've got some fucked up friends, I'm tellin' ya. Limber, though…

 

Narrator: Fight Club wasn't about winning or losing. It wasn't about words. The 

hysterical shouting was in tongues, like at a Pentecostal Church.

 

Narrator: Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us were sleeping, he worked. He 

had one part time job as a projectionist. See, a movie doesn't come all on one big 

reel. It comes on a few. So someone has to be there to switch the projectors at the 

exact moment that one reel ends and the next one begins. If you look for it, you can 

see these little dots come into the upper right-hand corner of the screen.
Tyler Durden: In the industry, we call them "cigarette burns."
Narrator: That's the cue for a changeover. He flips the projectors, the movie keeps 

right on going, and nobody in the audience has any idea.
Tyler Durden: Why would anyone want this shit job?
Narrator: Because it affords him other interesting opportunities.
Tyler Durden: Like splicing single frames of pornography into family films.
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Tyler Durden: Something on your mind, dear?


Tyler Durden: WHOA! WHOA! OK, you are now firing a gun at your imaginary friend NEAR 

400 GALLONS OF NITROGLYCERIN!

 

Narrator: Bob had bitch tits.

 

Narrator: I flipped through catalogs and wondered: What kind of dining set defines me 

as a person?

 

Narrator: [V.O] This is Bob. Bob had bitch tits.
[Camera pans to a REMAINING MEN TOGETHER sign]
Narrator: [V.O] This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosie 

slobbering all over me… that was Bob.
Robert 'Bob' Paulson: We're still men.
Narrator: [slightly muffled due to Bob’s enormous breasts] Yes, we're men. Men is what 

we are.
Narrator: [V.O] Eight months ago, Bob's testicles were removed. Then hormone therapy. 

He developed bitch tits because his testosterone was too high and his body upped the 

estrogen. And that was where I fit…
Robert 'Bob' Paulson: They're gonna have to open my pecs again to drain the fluid.
Narrator: [V.O] Between those huge sweating tits that hung enormous, the way you'd 

think of God's as big.

 

Narrator: [being embraced by Bob at the group therapy session for Testicular Cancer] 

Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one.

 

Tyler Durden: We are all part of the same compost heap.

 

Narrator: You're fucking Marla, Tyler.
Tyler Durden: Uh, technically, you're fucking Marla, but it's all the same to her.

 

Narrator: How embarrassing… a house full of condiments and no food.

 

Ricky: I can't believe he's still standing.
Thomas: One tough motherfucker.

 

Tyler Durden: If you could fight anyone, who would you fight?
Narrator: I'd fight my boss, prob'ly.
Tyler Durden: Really.
Narrator: Yeah, why, who would you fight?
Tyler Durden: I'd fight my dad.
Narrator: I don't know my dad. I mean, I know him, but… he left when I was like six 

years old. Married this other woman, had some other kids. He like did this every six 

years, he goes to a new city and starts a new family.
Tyler Durden: Fucker's setting up franchises.

 

Narrator: When the fight was over, nothing was solved, but nothing mattered. We all 

felt saved.

 

Narrator: [voiceover] It must've been Tuesday. He was wearing his cornflower-blue tie.

 

Narrator: Like so many others, I had become a slave to the Ikea nesting instinct.

 

Tyler Durden: If you could fight anyone, who would you fight?
Narrator: Shatner. I'd fight William Shatner.

 

Lou: *punches Tyler in face* You here me now?
Tyler Durden: Alright, alright, I got it. I got it – shit I lost it.

 

Tyler Durden: I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

 

Narrator: What do you want me to do? You want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: Come on, do me this one favor.
Narrator: Why?
Tyler Durden: Why? I don't know why, I don't know. Never been in a fight, you?
Narrator: No, but that's a good thing.
Tyler Durden: No, man it's not. How much can you know yourself if you've never been in 

a fight? I don't wanna die with out any scars.

 

Tyler Durden: We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, 

crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity 

magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, 

Viagra, Olestra.
Narrator: Martha Stewart.
Tyler Durden: Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's 

all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe 

patterns.

 

Marla Singer: I've been going to Debtor's Anonymous. You want to see some really 

fucked-up people…

 

Narrator: Fuck you! Fuck Fight Club! Fuck Marla! I am sick of all your shit!

 

Tyler Durden: All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna 

look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free 

in all the ways that you are not.

 

Marla Singer: Candy-stripe a cancer ward. It's not my problem.

 

Marla Singer: I've got a stomachful of Xanax. I took what was left of a bottle. It 

might have been too much.

 

Tyler Durden: It's getting exciting now, two and one-half. Think of everything we've 

accomplished, man. Out these windows, we will view the collapse of financial history. 

One step closer to economic equilibrium.

 

Tyler Durden: [his last words] What's that smell?

 

[Tyler and Jack stand in the bathroom doorway, watching Steph finish shaving off all of 

his hair. Tyler comes to give the top of Steph's head a sharp slap]
Tyler Durden: Like a monkey, ready to be shot into space. Space monkey! Ready to 

sacrifice himself for the greater good.
Tyler Durden: From now on, all those with shaved heads: "Space Monkeys".

 

Narrator: He was *the* guerilla terrorist in the food service industry.
[the Narrator looks at Tyler, who’s urinating in a pot]
Tyler Durden: Do not watch. I cannot go when you watch.
Narrator: Apart from seasoning the lobster bisque, he farted on the meringue, sneezed 

on braised endive, and as for the cream of mushroom soup, well…
Tyler Durden: [snickers] Go ahead. Tell 'em.
Narrator: …you get the idea.

 

Narrator: I am Jack's raging bile duct.

 

Narrator: Oh, yeah, Chloe… Chloe looked the way Meryl Streep's skeleton would look if 

you made it smile and walk around the party being extra nice to everybody.
Chloe: Well, I'm still here. But I don't know for how long. That's as much certainty as 

anyone can give me. But I've got some good news: I no longer have any fear of death. 

But… I am in a pretty lonely place. No one will have sex with me. I'm so close to the 

end, and all I want is to get laid for the last time. I have pornographic movies in my 

apartment, and lubricants, and amyl nitrite…
[the group leader takes the mic]
Group Leader: Thank you, Chloe… everyone, let's thank Chloe.

 

Narrator: After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down.

 

[the narrator pulls a loose tooth out of his mouth]
Narrator: Fuck.
Tyler Durden: Hey, even the Mona Lisa's falling apart.

 

Narrator: I got in everyone's hostile little face. Yes, these are bruises from 

fighting. Yes, I'm comfortable with that. I am enlightened.

 

[about Tyler splicing frames of pornography into family films]
Narrator: So when the snooty cat, and the courageous dog, with the celebrity voices 

meet for the first time in reel three, that's when you'll catch a flash of Tyler's 

contribution to the film.
[the audience is watching the film, the pornography flashes for a split second]
Narrator: Nobody knows that they saw it, but they did…
Tyler Durden: A nice, big cock…
[several audience members look rattled, a little girl is crying]
Narrator: Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.

 

Narrator: I wasn't really dying. I wasn't host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm 

little center that the life of this world crowded around.

 

[after beating an ‘applicant’ with a broom]
Narrator: I'm gonna go inside, and I'm gonna get a shovel.

 

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