Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You look stupid and rich.

- Kiss me. - I was carried away.

- Big deal. - You bet it was.

I fail to see how marrying a beautiful and brilliant

A father's love is something to cherish and respect.

- Not anymore. - Yes, you are, in mind.

- Because I'm asking you to. - You're commanding me!

Hordes in Ithaca?

Thank you, father, but the doctor took care of it.

The point doesn't concern the young lady. It concerns you.

there was another world better than this one.

- Of Cranston, Rhode Island. - How interesting.

Look, we're allowed to use the Radcliffe Library.

Yeah, but why is it that I suddenly wish my name

I quite agree. He's bound to be graduated with honors.

- Back at Radcliffe. - It's going to be OK, Jenny.

- Yeah, but it's home. - Yeah.

Will you stop referring to his father as a windmill?

You're presenting us with a fait accompli, are you not?

- You're a known quantity, Barrett. - Meaning?

Thank God for that.

You want to marry me?

Pay attention, will you?

No, sir, not yet.

So his not-so-great grandson would be able to get in.

I forgot my key.

- Never. - Oh, that's casual.

Only if he's a boy.

Well, I... I didn't necessarily mean the Catholic Church.

He's not going to be satisfied till he cuts them off.

Jenny's the boss. Whatever she wants.

I, Jennifer Cavalleri, take you, Oliver Barrett,

Normal. OK, I'll be as normal as hell.

- I'm in the penalty box. - What?

And his buddy, too. He's a very nice guy.

That's more than they give me.

Pastries! And don't make fun of my father.

- No, sir. - There really isn't any doubt.

- There's no poetry in OK. - Screw poetry, Oliver.

What number is the A-major concerto?

You, after all, You're going to be the merry widower.

- In a way. - Come on, he must be proud as hell.

Hey, Simpson, let me sack on your couch.

- More than the All-Ivy title? - Hell of a lot more.

Please watch your profanity, preppie.

Oh, yes, yes. Congratulations.

Oliver, please talk to him. Just say hello.

and he'll still going to resent you because you were a Harvard jock!

Where the unfit, contrarious moods of men

you must be screwing somebody.

It's siesta time. I've got 45 minutes.

Cornell goal, Cashay.

That we're gonna graduate and go our separate ways,

I don't like to have to put out "X" amount of achievement every term.

You'll be the first Barrett on the Supreme Court.

Oh, damn it. I don't know what's wrong with this engine.

but you Barretts are so goddamn proud and competitive

Listen. let's forget about it. There's no problem, OK?