John Hannah movie quotes
32 quotes from 4 movies
The Mummy (1999) as Jonathan
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Jonathan: Hurry up Evie!
Evelyn: Patience is a virtue.
Rick: Not right now it isn't.
About The Mummy (1999 film)[edit]
Evelyn: Patience is a virtue.
Rick: Not right now it isn't.
About The Mummy (1999 film)[edit]
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Jonathan: Uh...I'd take those bigger stones first. And take them from the top, otherwise the whole thing'll cave in on us. Come on, put your backs into it! (Rick and Ardeth turn to glare at him) Yes, well, you've got the idea. Chop chop.
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Evelyn: You told me you got it on a dig down in Thebes!
Johnathan: Yes, well, I was mistaken.
Evie: You lied to me!
Jonathan: I lie to everybody, what makes you so special?
Evelyn: I am your sister!
Jonathan: Yes, well, that just makes you more gullible.
Johnathan: Yes, well, I was mistaken.
Evie: You lied to me!
Jonathan: I lie to everybody, what makes you so special?
Evelyn: I am your sister!
Jonathan: Yes, well, that just makes you more gullible.
The Mummy Returns (2001) as Jonathan Carnahan
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If you see anyone come running out screaming, don't worry - it's just me.
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Step aside Alex, I'm a professional!
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I say chaps, look at that. Shrunken heads. I'd love to know how they do that. [Everybody looks strangely at Jonathan] Just curious.
The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008) as Jonathan Carnahan
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The Yak yakked
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I hate mummies. They never play fair!
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(to Rick & Evie) You guys are like mummy magnets!
Four Weddings And A Funeral (1994) as Matthew
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I remember the first time I saw Gareth on a dancefloor. I feared lives would be lost.
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At Gareth's funeral:
Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in.
In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him. Fat seems to be a word people most connected with him. Terribly rude also rang a lot of bells. So very fat and very rude seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint.
On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me to tell me that you loved him, which I know he'd be thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality... his strange experimental cooking. The recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness.
But joyful is how I hope you'll remember him. Not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favorite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met.
As for me, you may ask how I'll remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say:
"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin... let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message: He is Dead. Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West. My working week and my Sunday rest. My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now, put out every one. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun. Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in.
In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him. Fat seems to be a word people most connected with him. Terribly rude also rang a lot of bells. So very fat and very rude seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint.
On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me to tell me that you loved him, which I know he'd be thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality... his strange experimental cooking. The recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness.
But joyful is how I hope you'll remember him. Not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favorite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met.
As for me, you may ask how I'll remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say:
"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin... let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message: He is Dead. Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West. My working week and my Sunday rest. My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now, put out every one. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun. Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
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