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Airplane!!!!Gromme zei:Ik weet niet wat dit is maar het gewoon al lezen doet me de tranen in de ogen krijgen.![]()
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Airplane!!!!Gromme zei:Ik weet niet wat dit is maar het gewoon al lezen doet me de tranen in de ogen krijgen.![]()
Aliquando zei:Connor, Murphy: And shepherds we shall be, for thee my Lord for thee, Power hath descended forth from thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command, we shall flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine patris, et filii...
Connor, Murphy: ...et spiritus sancti.
idd dien last march of the ents fraze gaf me echt kippevel in de cinema.. zalige scene met die muziekGromme zei:En de voorafgaande speech natuurlijk!
En wanneer Treebeard ontdekt wat Saruman met zijn bossen heeft gedaan.
Treebeard: And a little family of field mice that climb up sometimes and they tickle me awfully. They’re always trying to get somewhere where they – Oh!! <Ziet de afgekapte bomen.> Many of these trees were my friends. Creatures I had known from nut and acorn.
Pippin: I’m sorry, Treebeard.
Treebeard: <Met tranen in de ogen> They had voices of their own. <His gaze turns to the treeless Isengard and its smoking caverns> Saruman! A wizard should know better!
<He lets out a ferocious roar that echoes through the forest>
Treebeard: There is no curse in Elvish, Entish or the tongues of men for this treachery. My business is with Isengard tonight. With rock and stone!
<Merry and Pippin turn around as they hear rumbles from the forest. They see many Ents emerging and marching towards them>
Merry: Yes!
Treebeard: Hoorarooom... Come my friends. The Ents are going to war. It is likely that we go to our doom. Last march of the Ents!
Zalig die last march
.. staat em daar te staan van waar nen bunker?
beestig!deyoeri zei:Al Bundy: You think I'm a loser? Because I have a stinking job that I hate, a family that doesn't respect me, and a whole city that curses the day I was born? Well, that may mean loser to you, but let me tell you something. Every day when I wake up in the morning, I know it's not going to get any better until I go back to sleep. So I get up. I have my watered-down Tang and my still-frozen Pop Tart. I get in my car with no gas, no upholstery, and six more payments. I fight honking traffic just for the privilege of putting cheap shoes onto the cloven hooves of people like you. I'll never play football like I wanted to. I'll never know the touch of a beautiful woman. And I'll never know the joy of driving through the city without a bag over my head. But I'm not a loser. Because, despite it all, me and every other guy who'll never be what they wanted to be, is out there, being what we don't want to be, forty hours a week, for life. And the fact that I didn't put a gun in my mouth years ago - that little fact makes me a winner, baby.