notting hill

Anna Scott: You know what they say about men with big feet.
William: No, I don't, actually. What's that?
Anna Scott: Big feet... large shoes.

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William: Would you like something to eat? Something to nibble? Apricots, soaked in honey? Quite why, no one knows, because it stops them tasting like apricots and makes them taste like honey... and if you wanted honey, you could just... buy honey. Instead of apricots. But nevertheless they're yours if you want them.

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William: Sorry about the "surreal but nice" comment.
Anna Scott: Don't worry, I thought the whole apricot honey thing was the real low point.

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William: Would you like a cup of tea before you go?
Anna Scott: No.
William: Orange juice? No, probably not... something else cold? Coke? Water? Some disgusting sugary drink pretending to have something to do with fruits of the forest?
Anna Scott: No.
William: Do you... always say no to everything?
Anna Scott: [thinks] No.

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Anna Scott: "For June who loved this garden from Joseph who always sat beside her." Some people do spend their whole lives together.



Anna Scott: Wait, what about me?
Max: Sorry, you think *you* deserve the brownie?
Anna Scott: Well a shot at it at least huh?
William: Well, you'll have to fight me for it, this is a very good brownie.
Anna Scott: I've been on a diet every day since I was nineteen, which basically means I've been hungry for a decade. I've had a series of not nice boyfriends, one of whom hit me. Ah, and every time I get my heart broken, the newspapers splash it about as though it's entertainment. And it's taken two rather painful operations to get me looking like this.
Honey: Really?
Anna Scott: Really. And, one day not long from now, my looks will go, they will discover I can't act and I will become some sad middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.
Max: [long pause] Nah, nice try gorgeous, but you don't fool anyone.
William: Pathetic effort to hog the brownie.

William: I live in Notting Hill. You live in Beverly Hills. Everyone in the world knows who you are, my mother has trouble remembering my name.
Anna Scott: I'm also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.

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Anna Scott: I can't believe you have that picture on your wall.
William: You like Chagall?
Anna Scott: I do. It feels like how being in love should be. Floating through a dark blue sky.
William: With a goat playing the violin.
Anna Scott: Yes - happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat.

William: It's as if I've taken love heroin, and now I can't ever have it again.

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Anna Scott: Can I stay for a while?
William: You can stay forever.


William: Whoopsidaisies!
Anna Scott: What did you say?
William: Nothing.
Anna Scott: Yes you did.
William: No I didn't.
Anna Scott: You said "whoopsidaisies".
William: I don't think so. No one says "whoopsidaisies" do they? Unless they're...
Anna Scott: There *is* no "unless." No one has said "whoopsidaisies" for fifty years and even then it was only little girls with blonde ringlets.
William: Exactly. Here we go again.
[He falls off the fence again]
William: Whoopsidaisies. It's a disease I've got. It's a clinical thing. I'm taking pills and having injections. It won't last long.

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Anna Scott: Rita Hayworth used to say, "They go to bed with Gilda; they wake up with me."
William: Who's Gilda?
Anna Scott: Her most famous part. Men went to bed with the dream; they didn't like it when they would wake up with the reality. Do you feel that way?
William: You are lovelier this morning than you have ever been.


Spike: Just going to the kitchen to get some food, then I'm going to tell you a story that will make your balls shrink to the size of raisins.

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Honey: Oh God, this is one of those key moments in life, when it's possible you can be really, genuinely cool - and I'm failing 100%. I absolutely and totally and utterly adore you and I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world and more importantly I genuinely believe and have believed for some time now that we can be best friends. What do YOU think?

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Spike: There's something wrong with this yogurt.
William: Ah, that's not yogurt, that's mayonnaise...
Spike: Ah, right-o then.
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Max: Let's face facts, this was always a no-win situation. Anna's a goddess, you know what happens to mortals who get involved with gods.
William: Buggered, is it?
Max: Every time.
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Spike: I knew a girl at school called Pandora. Never got to see her box, though.

P.R. Chief: Next question? Yes. You in the pink shirt.
William: Uh, right. Miss Scott, are there any circumstances that you and he might be more than just friends.
Anna Scott: I hoped that there would be but I've been assured that there's not.
William: Yes, but what if...
P.R. Chief: I'm sorry. Just the one question.
Anna Scott: No. It's alright. You were saying?
William: I was just wondering what if this person...
Journalist: Thacker. His name is Thacker.
William: Right. Thanks. What if, uh, Mr. Thacker realized that he had been a daft prick and got down on his knees and begged you to reconsider if you would... indeed... reconsider.
Anna Scott: [pause] Yes. I believe I would.
William: That's wonderful news. The readers of Horse and Hound will be relieved.

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P.R. Chief: Dominic... if you'd like to ask your question again?
Journalist: Yes. Anna, how long are you intending to stay here in Britain?
Anna Scott: [pause] Indefinitely.