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Debbie: It's a shame Nick couldn't come.
Ian: He did say I could go out with you. He said it was alright, as long as I looked after you.
Debbie: Did he now?
Ian: Well I didn't want you thinking we were going behind his back or anything.
Debbie: That's a bit presumptuous don't you think?
Ian: Why?
Debbie: I might not (have) wanted to go out with you.
(Ian looks at her, and they share a kiss.)
Ian: He did say I could go out with you. He said it was alright, as long as I looked after you.
Debbie: Did he now?
Ian: Well I didn't want you thinking we were going behind his back or anything.
Debbie: That's a bit presumptuous don't you think?
Ian: Why?
Debbie: I might not (have) wanted to go out with you.
(Ian looks at her, and they share a kiss.)
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Ian: (hands over a box of cigarettes to Debbie who refuses the offer) You can't be in my gang if you don't smoke.
Debbie: (I) don't wanna be in your gang.
Ian: Neither do I.
Debbie: (I) don't wanna be in your gang.
Ian: Neither do I.
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Ian: (touches a butterfly shape on the glass window) My heart leaps when I behold, a rainbow in the sky. So it was my life began, so is it now, I am a man. So it be when I shall grow old, or let me die. The child is the father of the man. And I could wish my days to be bound by natural piety. (sits down on the bed)
Nick: ... Did you write that?
Nick: ... Did you write that?
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Ian: Mrs. Brady please can I use your toilet please?
Mrs. Brady: Of course you can, love. Second on the left down the hall.
Ian: Thank you.
Mrs. Brady: ... Where was I? Oh yes.
(Ian goes to the bathroom and raids the medicine cabinet.)
Mrs. Brady: Of course you can, love. Second on the left down the hall.
Ian: Thank you.
Mrs. Brady: ... Where was I? Oh yes.
(Ian goes to the bathroom and raids the medicine cabinet.)
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Ian: You're a twat you are. You're a bastard.
Tony Wilson: ..am I? Why is that?
Ian: Because you haven't put us on television.
Tony Wilson: ..am I? Why is that?
Ian: Because you haven't put us on television.
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Peter Hook: You know I don't mind the Buzz, but calling themselves ****s... (I) don't get it.
Ian: Well they're not calling themselves the ****s are they? They're calling themselves the Buzz****s.
Peter: (mumbles)... Just couldn't stand for it, that's all.
Ian: Well they're not calling themselves the ****s are they? They're calling themselves the Buzz****s.
Peter: (mumbles)... Just couldn't stand for it, that's all.
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Rob Gretton: I know how you can be better just like that (snaps his finger).
Ian: Go on then.
Rob: Simple. You employ me. You play, I manage. We all get stinking rich and famous and go buy great big ****ing houses in Cheshire.
Ian: Go on then.
Rob: Simple. You employ me. You play, I manage. We all get stinking rich and famous and go buy great big ****ing houses in Cheshire.
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Existence, well, what does it matter? I exist in the best terms I can. The past is now part of my future. The present is well out of hand.
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I already manage a couple of bands, but between you and me, they couldn't sniff the sweat around your bollocks. You lot are something else. I hold my hands up! I am a believer in Joy Division! ****ing hallelujah!
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I wish I were a Warhol silkscreen, hanging on the wall.
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It says here... usually prescribed for schizophrenia. Side effects include drowsiness, apathy, agitation, and blurred vision :(pause)... I'm taking two.
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When you're looking at life in a strange new room... maybe drowning soon. Is this the start of it all?