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Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life

Hospital Administrator: And what are you doing this morning?
Obstetrician: It's a birth.
Hospital Administrator: Ah! And what sort of thing is that?
Dr. Spenser: Well, that's where we take a new baby out of a lady's tummy.
Hospital Administrator: Wonderful what we can do nowdays!

Man in Pink: [singing] Pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space / 'Cause there's bugger all down here on earth!

Noel Coward: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Here's a little number I tossed off recently in the Caribbean.
[singing]
Noel Coward: Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis? / Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong? / It's swell to have a stiffy. / It's divine to own a dick, / From the tiniest little tadger / To the world's biggest prick. / So, three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas. / Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake, / Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend, / Your Percy, or your cock. / You can wrap it up in ribbons. / You can slip it in your sock, / But don't take it out in public, / Or they will stick you in the dock, / And you won't come back!

Grim Reaper: Englishmen, you're all so fucking pompous. None of you have got any balls!

Grim Reaper: Shut up, you American! You Americans, all you do is talk, and talk, and say "let me tell you something" and "I just wanna say." Well, you're dead now, so shut up!

Father: The mill's closed. There's no more work. We're destitute.
Children: Ohhhhh.
Father: I'm afraid I have no choice but to sell you all for scientific experiments.

Gaston: You see that house? That is where I was born. My mother said to me, "Garcon. The world is a beautiful place, and you must spread joy and contentment everywhere you go". And so I became a waiter. ...Well, I know it is not a great philosophy but...
[pauses, looks offended]
Gaston: Well, fuck you! I can live my life in my own way if I want to.
[begins to walk away in disgust]
Gaston: Fuck off! Don't come following me!

Chaplain: Let us praise God. O Lord,...
Congregation: O Lord,...
Chaplain: ...Ooh, You are so big,...
Congregation: ...ooh, You are so big,...
Chaplain: ...So absolutely huge.
Congregation: ...So absolutely huge.
Chaplain: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.
Congregation: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.
Chaplain: Forgive us, O Lord, for this, our dreadful toadying, and...
Congregation: And barefaced flattery.
Chaplain: But You are so strong and, well, just so super.
Congregation: Fantastic.
Humphrey: Amen.
Congregation: Amen.

Maitre d': Good evening sir and how are we today?
Mr. Creosote: Better.
Maitre d': Better?
Mr. Creosote: Better get a bucket. I'm gonna throw up.

Paitent: What do I do?
Dr. Spenser: Nothing dear, you're not qualified!

Humphrey: So, just listen. Now, did I or did I not... do... vaginal... juices?
Pupils: Mmm. Mmm. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
Humphrey: Name two ways of getting them flowing, Watson.
Watson: R-- rubbing the clitoris, sir?
Humphrey: What's wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm? Why not start her off with a nice kiss? You don't have to go leaping straight for the clitoris like a bull at a gate. Give her a kiss, boy.
Wymer: Suck the nipple, sir?
Humphrey: Good! Good. Well done, Wymer.
Pupil: Uh, stroking the thighs, sir.
Humphrey: Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Hmm?
Pupil: Oh, sir. Biting the neck.
Humphrey: Yes. Good. Nibbling the earlobe, uhh, kneading the buttocks, and so on and so forth. So, we have all these possibilities before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson.
Watson: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

Harry Blackitt: Look at them, bloody Catholics, filling the bloody world up with bloody people they can't afford to bloody feed.
Mrs. Blackitt: What are we dear?
Harry Blackitt: Protestant, and fiercely proud of it.
Mrs. Blackitt: Hmm. Well, why do they have so many children?
Harry Blackitt: Because... every time they have sexual intercoursey have to have a baby.
Mrs. Blackitt: But it's the same with us, Harry.
Harry Blackitt: What do you mean?
Mrs. Blackitt: Well, I mean, we've got two children, and we've had sexual intercourse twice.
Harry Blackitt: That's not the point. We could have it any time we wanted.
Mrs. Blackitt: Really?
Harry Blackitt: Oh, yes, and, what's more, because we don't believe in all that Papist claptrap, we can take precautions.
Mrs. Blackitt: What, you mean... lock the door?
Harry Blackitt: No, no. I mean, because we are members of the Protestant Reformed Church, which successfully challenged the autocratic power of the Papacy in the mid-sixteenth century, we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue.
Mrs. Blackitt: What d'you mean?
Harry Blackitt: I could, if I wanted, have sexual intercourse with you,...
Mrs. Blackitt: Oh, yes, Harry.
Harry Blackitt: ...and, by wearing a rubber sheath over my old feller, I could insure... that, when I came off, you would not be impregnated.
Mrs. Blackitt: Ooh!
Harry Blackitt: That's what being a Protestant's all about. That's why it's the church for me. That's why it's the church for anyone who respects the individual and the individual's right to decide for him or herself. When Martin Luther nailed his protest up to the church door in fifteen-seventeen, he may not have realised the full significance of what he was doing, but four hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas,...
[sniff]
Harry Blackitt: ...and, Protestantism doesn't stop at the simple condom! Oh, no! I can wear French Ticklers if I want.
Mrs. Blackitt: You what?
Harry Blackitt: French Ticklers. Black Mambos. Crocodile Ribs. Sheaths that are designed not only to protect, but also to enhance the stimulation of sexual congress.
Mrs. Blackitt: Have you got one?
Harry Blackitt: Have I got one? Uh, well, no, but I can go down the road any time I want and walk into Harry's and hold my head up high and say in a loud, steady voice, 'Harry, I want you to sell me a condom. In fact, today, I think I'll have a French Tickler, for I am a Protestant.'
Mrs. Blackitt: Well, why don't you?
Harry Blackitt: But they-- Welly cannot, 'cause their church never made the great leap out of the Middle Ages and the domination of alien Episcopal supremacy.

Humphrey: All right, settle down. Settle down..... Now, before I begin the lesson, will those of you who are playing in the match this afternoon move your clothes down onto the lower peg immediately after lunch, before you write your letter home, if you're not getting your hair cut, unless you've got a younger brother who is going out this weekend as the guest of another boy, in which case, collect his note before lunch, put it in your letter after you've had your hair cut, and make sure he moves your clothes down onto the lower peg for you. Now,--
Wymer: Sir?
Humphrey: Yes, Wymer?
Wymer: My younger brother's going out with Dibble this weekend, sir, but I'm not having my hair cut today, sir.
Pupils: [chuckling]
Wymer: So, do I move my clothes down, or--
Humphrey: I do wish you'd listen, Wymer. It's perfectly simple. If you're not getting your hair cut, you don't have to move your brother's clothes down to the lower peg. You simply collect his note before lunch, after you've done your scripture prep, when you've written your letter home, before rest, move your own clothes onto the lower peg, greet the visitors, and report to Mr. Viney that you've had your chit signed.

[The Middle Of The Film]
Lady Presenter: Hello, and welcome to 'The Middle of the Film' moment where we take a break to invite you audience, to join us film-makers, in 'Find the Fish'. We're going to show you a scene from another film and ask you to guess where the fish is, but, if you think you know, don't keep it to yourselves! Yell out so that all the cinema can hear you. So, here we are with... 'Find the Fish'.

[The End Of The Film]
Lady Presenter: Well, that's the end of the film. Now, here's the meaning of life.
[Receives an envelope.]
Lady Presenter: Thank you, Brigitte.
[Opens envelope, reads what's inside.]
Lady Presenter: M-hmm. Well, it's nothing very special. Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations. And, finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark some sort of controversy, which, it seems, is the only wayse days, to get the jaded, video-sated public off their fucking arses and back in the sodding cinema! Family entertainment? Bollocks! What they want is filth: people doing things to each other with chainsaws during tupperware parties, babysitters being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates, vigilante groups strangling chickens, armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats! Where's the fun in pictures?! Oh, wellre we are. Here's the theme music. Goodnight.

Hospital Administrator: Ah, I see you have the machine that goes ping. This is my favorite. You see we lease it back from the company we sold it to and that way it comes under the monthly current budget and not the capital account.
[Everyone in the room applauds]
Hospital Administrator: Thank you, thank you!

[Large corporate boardroom filled with suited executives]
Exec #1: Item six on the agenda: "The Meaning of Life" Now uh, Harry, you've had some thoughts on this.
Exec #2: Yeah, I've had a team working on this over the past few weeks, and what we've come up with can be reduced to two fundamental concepts. One: People aren't wearing enough hats. Two: Matter is energy. In the universe there are many energy fields which we cannot normally perceive. Some energies have a spiritual source which act upon a person's soul. However, this "soul" does not exist ab initio as orthodox Christianity teaches; it has to be brought into existence by a process of guided self-observation. However, this is rarely achieved owing to man's unique ability to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia.
Exec #3: What was that about hats again?
Exec #2: Oh, Uh... people aren't wearing enough.
Exec #1: Is this true?
Exec #4: Certainly. Hat sales have increased but not pari passu, as our research...
Exec #3: [Interrupting] "Not wearing enough"? enough for what purpose?
Exec #5: Can I just ask, with reference to your second point, when you say souls don't develop because people become distracted...
[looking out window]
Exec #5: Has anyone noticed that building there before?

Strange Man: And it went...wherever I...did go.

Sergeant-Major: Don't stand there gapin'! Like you never seen the hand o' God before!

Wife of Guest #4: We have to go - um - I'm having rather heavy period.
[awkward pause]
Guest #4: And... we... have a train to catch.
Wife: Yes... of course! We have a train to catch. And I don't want to start bleeding over the seats!

Chaplain: [singing] Oh Lord, please don't burn us/Don't grill or toast your flock/Don't put us on the barbecue/Or simmer us in stock/Don't braise or bake or boil us/Or stir-fry us in a wok/Oh please don't lightly poach us/Or baste us with hot fat/Don't fricassee or roast us/Or boil us in a vat/And please don't stick thy servants Lord/In a Rotiss-o-mat.

Humphrey: And spotteth twice they the camels before the third hour. And so the Midianites went forth to Ram Gilead in Kadesh Bilgemath by Shor Ethra Regalion, to the house of Gash-Bil-Betheul-Bazda, he who brought the butter dish to Balshazar and the tent peg to the house of Rashomon, and there slew they the goats, yea, and placed they the bits in little pots. Here endeth the lesson.




	Home Jokes Film Quotes Boss Alert News Forum Links		Back to - Film Quotes - M Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life Hospital Administrator: And what are you doing this morning? Obstetrician: It's a birth. Hospital Administrator: Ah! And what sort of thing is that? Dr. Spenser: Well, that's where we take a new baby out of a lady's tummy. Hospital Administrator: Wonderful what we can do nowdays! Man in Pink: [singing] Pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space / 'Cause there's bugger all down here on earth! Noel Coward: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Here's a little number I tossed off recently in the Caribbean. [singing] Noel Coward: Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis? / Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong? / It's swell to have a stiffy. / It's divine to own a dick, / From the tiniest little tadger / To the world's biggest prick. / So, three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas. / Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake, / Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend, / Your Percy, or your cock. / You can wrap it up in ribbons. / You can slip it in your sock, / But don't take it out in public, / Or they will stick you in the dock, / And you won't come back! Grim Reaper: Englishmen, you're all so fucking pompous. None of you have got any balls! Grim Reaper: Shut up, you American! You Americans, all you do is talk, and talk, and say "let me tell you something" and "I just wanna say." Well, you're dead now, so shut up! Father: The mill's closed. There's no more work. We're destitute. Children: Ohhhhh. Father: I'm afraid I have no choice but to sell you all for scientific experiments. Gaston: You see that house? That is where I was born. My mother said to me, "Garcon. The world is a beautiful place, and you must spread joy and contentment everywhere you go". And so I became a waiter. ...Well, I know it is not a great philosophy but... [pauses, looks offended] Gaston: Well, fuck you! I can live my life in my own way if I want to. [begins to walk away in disgust] Gaston: Fuck off! Don't come following me! Chaplain: Let us praise God. O Lord,... Congregation: O Lord,... Chaplain: ...Ooh, You are so big,... Congregation: ...ooh, You are so big,... Chaplain: ...So absolutely huge. Congregation: ...So absolutely huge. Chaplain: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You. Congregation: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You. Chaplain: Forgive us, O Lord, for this, our dreadful toadying, and... Congregation: And barefaced flattery. Chaplain: But You are so strong and, well, just so super. Congregation: Fantastic. Humphrey: Amen. Congregation: Amen. Maitre d': Good evening sir and how are we today? Mr. Creosote: Better. Maitre d': Better? Mr. Creosote: Better get a bucket. I'm gonna throw up. Paitent: What do I do? Dr. Spenser: Nothing dear, you're not qualified! Humphrey: So, just listen. Now, did I or did I not... do... vaginal... juices? Pupils: Mmm. Mmm. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Humphrey: Name two ways of getting them flowing, Watson. Watson: R-- rubbing the clitoris, sir? Humphrey: What's wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm? Why not start her off with a nice kiss? You don't have to go leaping straight for the clitoris like a bull at a gate. Give her a kiss, boy. Wymer: Suck the nipple, sir? Humphrey: Good! Good. Well done, Wymer. Pupil: Uh, stroking the thighs, sir. Humphrey: Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Hmm? Pupil: Oh, sir. Biting the neck. Humphrey: Yes. Good. Nibbling the earlobe, uhh, kneading the buttocks, and so on and so forth. So, we have all these possibilities before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson. Watson: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Harry Blackitt: Look at them, bloody Catholics, filling the bloody world up with bloody people they can't afford to bloody feed. Mrs. Blackitt: What are we dear? Harry Blackitt: Protestant, and fiercely proud of it. Mrs. Blackitt: Hmm. Well, why do they have so many children? Harry Blackitt: Because... every time they have sexual intercoursey have to have a baby. Mrs. Blackitt: But it's the same with us, Harry. Harry Blackitt: What do you mean? Mrs. Blackitt: Well, I mean, we've got two children, and we've had sexual intercourse twice. Harry Blackitt: That's not the point. We could have it any time we wanted. Mrs. Blackitt: Really? Harry Blackitt: Oh, yes, and, what's more, because we don't believe in all that Papist claptrap, we can take precautions. Mrs. Blackitt: What, you mean... lock the door? Harry Blackitt: No, no. I mean, because we are members of the Protestant Reformed Church, which successfully challenged the autocratic power of the Papacy in the mid-sixteenth century, we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue. Mrs. Blackitt: What d'you mean? Harry Blackitt: I could, if I wanted, have sexual intercourse with you,... Mrs. Blackitt: Oh, yes, Harry. Harry Blackitt: ...and, by wearing a rubber sheath over my old feller, I could insure... that, when I came off, you would not be impregnated. Mrs. Blackitt: Ooh! Harry Blackitt: That's what being a Protestant's all about. That's why it's the church for me. That's why it's the church for anyone who respects the individual and the individual's right to decide for him or herself. When Martin Luther nailed his protest up to the church door in fifteen-seventeen, he may not have realised the full significance of what he was doing, but four hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas,... [sniff] Harry Blackitt: ...and, Protestantism doesn't stop at the simple condom! Oh, no! I can wear French Ticklers if I want. Mrs. Blackitt: You what? Harry Blackitt: French Ticklers. Black Mambos. Crocodile Ribs. Sheaths that are designed not only to protect, but also to enhance the stimulation of sexual congress. Mrs. Blackitt: Have you got one? Harry Blackitt: Have I got one? Uh, well, no, but I can go down the road any time I want and walk into Harry's and hold my head up high and say in a loud, steady voice, 'Harry, I want you to sell me a condom. In fact, today, I think I'll have a French Tickler, for I am a Protestant.' Mrs. Blackitt: Well, why don't you? Harry Blackitt: But they-- Welly cannot, 'cause their church never made the great leap out of the Middle Ages and the domination of alien Episcopal supremacy. Humphrey: All right, settle down. Settle down..... Now, before I begin the lesson, will those of you who are playing in the match this afternoon move your clothes down onto the lower peg immediately after lunch, before you write your letter home, if you're not getting your hair cut, unless you've got a younger brother who is going out this weekend as the guest of another boy, in which case, collect his note before lunch, put it in your letter after you've had your hair cut, and make sure he moves your clothes down onto the lower peg for you. Now,-- Wymer: Sir? Humphrey: Yes, Wymer? Wymer: My younger brother's going out with Dibble this weekend, sir, but I'm not having my hair cut today, sir. Pupils: [chuckling] Wymer: So, do I move my clothes down, or-- Humphrey: I do wish you'd listen, Wymer. It's perfectly simple. If you're not getting your hair cut, you don't have to move your brother's clothes down to the lower peg. You simply collect his note before lunch, after you've done your scripture prep, when you've written your letter home, before rest, move your own clothes onto the lower peg, greet the visitors, and report to Mr. Viney that you've had your chit signed. [The Middle Of The Film] Lady Presenter: Hello, and welcome to 'The Middle of the Film' moment where we take a break to invite you audience, to join us film-makers, in 'Find the Fish'. We're going to show you a scene from another film and ask you to guess where the fish is, but, if you think you know, don't keep it to yourselves! Yell out so that all the cinema can hear you. So, here we are with... 'Find the Fish'. [The End Of The Film] Lady Presenter: Well, that's the end of the film. Now, here's the meaning of life. [Receives an envelope.] Lady Presenter: Thank you, Brigitte. [Opens envelope, reads what's inside.] Lady Presenter: M-hmm. Well, it's nothing very special. Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations. And, finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark some sort of controversy, which, it seems, is the only wayse days, to get the jaded, video-sated public off their fucking arses and back in the sodding cinema! Family entertainment? Bollocks! What they want is filth: people doing things to each other with chainsaws during tupperware parties, babysitters being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates, vigilante groups strangling chickens, armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats! Where's the fun in pictures?! Oh, wellre we are. Here's the theme music. Goodnight. Hospital Administrator: Ah, I see you have the machine that goes ping. This is my favorite. You see we lease it back from the company we sold it to and that way it comes under the monthly current budget and not the capital account. [Everyone in the room applauds] Hospital Administrator: Thank you, thank you! [Large corporate boardroom filled with suited executives] Exec #1: Item six on the agenda: "The Meaning of Life" Now uh, Harry, you've had some thoughts on this. Exec #2: Yeah, I've had a team working on this over the past few weeks, and what we've come up with can be reduced to two fundamental concepts. One: People aren't wearing enough hats. Two: Matter is energy. In the universe there are many energy fields which we cannot normally perceive. Some energies have a spiritual source which act upon a person's soul. However, this "soul" does not exist ab initio as orthodox Christianity teaches; it has to be brought into existence by a process of guided self-observation. However, this is rarely achieved owing to man's unique ability to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia. Exec #3: What was that about hats again? Exec #2: Oh, Uh... people aren't wearing enough. Exec #1: Is this true? Exec #4: Certainly. Hat sales have increased but not pari passu, as our research... Exec #3: [Interrupting] "Not wearing enough"? enough for what purpose? Exec #5: Can I just ask, with reference to your second point, when you say souls don't develop because people become distracted... [looking out window] Exec #5: Has anyone noticed that building there before? Strange Man: And it went...wherever I...did go. Sergeant-Major: Don't stand there gapin'! Like you never seen the hand o' God before! Wife of Guest #4: We have to go - um - I'm having rather heavy period. [awkward pause] Guest #4: And... we... have a train to catch. Wife: Yes... of course! We have a train to catch. And I don't want to start bleeding over the seats! Chaplain: [singing] Oh Lord, please don't burn us/Don't grill or toast your flock/Don't put us on the barbecue/Or simmer us in stock/Don't braise or bake or boil us/Or stir-fry us in a wok/Oh please don't lightly poach us/Or baste us with hot fat/Don't fricassee or roast us/Or boil us in a vat/And please don't stick thy servants Lord/In a Rotiss-o-mat. Humphrey: And spotteth twice they the camels before the third hour. And so the Midianites went forth to Ram Gilead in Kadesh Bilgemath by Shor Ethra Regalion, to the house of Gash-Bil-Betheul-Bazda, he who brought the butter dish to Balshazar and the tent peg to the house of Rashomon, and there slew they the goats, yea, and placed they the bits in little pots. Here endeth the lesson.