Here are some more that I think are classic from The Shining. I had to cheat and look these quotes up but to me are classic in how Jack Nicholson delivers them. I can't help but to chuckle to myself.
Wendy: Get a lot written today? Jack: Yes. Wendy: Hey! Weather forecast said it's gonna snow tonight! Jack: What do you want me to do about it? Wendy: Aw, come on, hun. Don't be so grouchy. Jack: I'm not being grouchy. I just want to finish my work. Wendy: Okay, I understand. I'll come back later on with a couple of sandwiches for ya, and maybe you'll let me read something then. Jack: Wendy, let me explain something to you. Whenever you come in here and interrupt me, you're breaking my concentration. You're distracting me! [he hits his head with the palm of his hand, rips up his manuscript, and throws it onto the floor] And it will then take me time to get back to where I was! Understand?! Wendy: Yeah. Jack: Fine. I'm gonna make a new rule: whenever I'm in here, and you hear me typing,[presses down hard on random keys] whether you don't hear me typing, whatever the fuck you hear me doing in here, when I'm in here, that means that I am working. That means don't come in. Now, do you think you can handle that? Wendy: Yeah. Jack: Fine. Why don't you start right now and get the fuck outta here, hm? Wendy: Okay.
And here's my favorite scene. Many great lines here...
Jack Torrance: [Disappointed at finding the bar empty] I'd sell my goddamn soul, for a glass of beer.
[coveres his face with eyes, sighs, then uncovers face again, sees Lloyd]
Jack Torrance: Hi, Lloyd. A little slow tonight, isn't it?
[laughs manically]
Jack Torrance: .
Lloyd: Yes, it is, Mr. Torrance
[walks toward Jack]
Lloyd: What will it be?
Jack Torrance: I'm awfully glad you asked me that, Lloyd. Because I just happen to have to twentys and two tens right here in my wallet. And I was afraif there were gonna be there until net April. So, here's what: You slip me a bottle of bourbon, a cool glass and some ice. You can do that, can't you, Lloyd? You're not too busy, are you
[laughs sarcastically]
Lloyd: No, sir. Not busy, at all.
Jack Torrance: Good man. You set them up, and I'll knock 'em back, Lloyd; one by one.
[Lloyd prepares the first drink]
Jack Torrance: White man's burden, Lloyd, my man, white man's burden.
[Jack checks his wallte, finds it empty, somewhat emberassed]
Jack Torrance: Say, Lloyd. It seems I'm temporarily light. How's my credit in this joint, anyway?
Lloyd: Your credit is fine, Mr. Torrance.
Jack Torrance: That's swell. I like you, Lloyd. I always liked you. Yor were always the best of 'em. Best goddamn bartender from Tibuktu to Portland / Maine. Or Portland / Oregon, for that matter
Lloyd: Thank you for saying so.
Jack Torrance: [staring at the drink in his hand] Here's to five miserable months on the wagon, and all the irreperable harm that it's caused me.
[drinks it]
Lloyd: How are things going, Mr. Torrance?
Jack Torrance: Things could be better, Lloyd. Things could be a whole lot better.
Lloyd: I hope it's nothing serious.
Jack Torrance: No.
[tapps on the bar, signalizing, he wants another drink]
Jack Torrance: Nothing serious. Just a little problem with the old sperm-bank upstairs. Nothing I can't handle though, Lloyd. Right?
Lloyd: Women: Can't live with them - can't live without them.
Jack Torrance: Words of wisdom, Lloyd, words of wisdom.
[nips on his second glass]
Jack Torrance: I never laid a hand on him, goddamn it. I didn't. I wouldn't touch one hair on his little goddamn little head. I love the little son of a bitch. I'd do anything for him, any fucking thing for him. But that bitch. As long as I live, she'll never let me forget what happend.
[overcomes himself, almost apologetic]
Jack Torrance: I did hurt him once, okay? It was an accident. Completely unintentional. Could have happened to anybody.
[starting to get somewhat mad]
Jack Torrance: And it was three goddamn years ago. Little fucker had thrown all my papers all over the floor, all I tried to do, was pull him up.
[calming down]
Jack Torrance: A momentary loss of muscular coordination. A few extra footpounds of energy per second, per second.
[signalizes that Danny's arm was broken]
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