Robin Williams

"Though a terrifically engaging screen presence at his most gregarious and joke-focused, he had to chops to be just as mesmerizing when muted, which would only draw out tension for the moment when he could turn on the jets and shift to full bombast. I’m not sure I can think of another actor with Williams’ combined dominant traits: instantly recognizable for his warmth and energy, fiercely multitalented, flying between understated and exuberant emotional extremes in comedy and drama, and yet maligned whenever the unpredictable balance he struck in a given performance didn’t match the critical ideal. In that way his Academy Award for Good Will Hunting in 1997 is both the peak of his control and the most patronizing harness of his career. Here is your reward for taking the raging combustion, powerful as a radiant star, and tamping it down to understated levels while remaining perforated, so that emotional peaks still have a chance to flare out. It was an unhelpful and unjust expectation on an actor who did nothing but give of himself to his performance. … it’s too limiting right now to call Robin Williams simply a comedian, despite the tremendous outpouring from the comedy community that continues today. He was an actor, one of the most gifted and adventurous performers of his generation, and it’s a shame that it took something like his tragic death to take stock of the possibility that the outsized expectations of an audience could have prevented more people from simply enjoying the effort Williams made in so many films, no matter the critical adjudication."

"[Comparing Ronald Reagans Cabinet to Star Wars] Theres Henry Kissinger as Yoda, "Must now cannot see understanding that I be here for you. I will show you now, Nicaragua, Cambodia, Nicaragua, Cambodia, shhh. Must later understand!"

"Now, Michael Jackson is claiming racism. Im going, "Honey, you gotta pick a race first." Baby, what are you claiming, mistreatment of elves? What are you saying?"

"They call it freebasing. Its not free, it costs you your house! It should be called home basing! Three signs youre addicted to cocaine: First of all, if you come home to your house and you have no furniture and your cats going "Im outta here, prick!," Warning! Number two: If you have this dream where youre doing cocaine in your sleep and you cant fall asleep, and you wake up and youre doing cocaine, BINGO! Number three: if on your tax form it says, "$50,000 for snacks," MAYDAY!"

"[On football] Youre playing a game against a man called the Refrigerator! Hes not a refrigerator – hes a goddamn HOUSE with LEGS!!"

"Baseball players have to go in front of a grand jury and say, "Yeah, I did cocaine. Can you blame me? Its a slow goddamn game! Come on Jack! Standing out in left field for seven innings, and theres a long white line going down to home plate! I see the guy putting it out going "Heh heh heh heh!!!!" And that damn organ music too, the whole [does intro to "Charge!"]! Third base coach is always doing this...[wiping nose, fidgeting around]. When hes doing that, I dont know whether to slide or do a line! People sliding into home plate head first, umpire goes, "Youre out!" "No, baby, Im up now! Ha ha ha!"

"Parry is a man with a previous life that was so damaged that he had to create another personality. … Its like post-traumatic stress syndrome: Some people respond to traumatic or tragic events by withdrawal; some even create other personalities. Parry is a creation — somewhat Don Quixote, somewhat Groucho Marx — but hes a creation designed to avoid a past event."

"Because now, when you go through airport security, its tight. You go through the metal detector, and if youre heavily pierced, like some of my friends, its like, (steps forward) "BZZT!" "Take out your keys, sir." Tip of the iceberg. (pantomimes removing various piercings from the ears, nostrils eyebrows, tongue; then reaches to the side, grabs an imaginary drill, points it at his crotch and makes a drilling noise) For those playing the home game, this is called a Prince Albert. And Im sure that was his last wish. Im sure Albert said "Victoria, Im dying. I want you to name a museum, a performance hall, and a bolt through the cock after me. That will be Victorias Secret. Go, my darling!"

"I do know this one thing. I know there is a cure for whatever bioterrorism that they send at us. I know theres one. And it lies within Keith Richards, I know that. He is the only man on the planet who can go [pantomimes snorting a line of powder] "Anthrax? All riiiiight. Hey. Doesnt go with my E. coli, but fuck." Keith is the only man who can make the Osbornes look fucking Amish. Hes insane! Ive seen Keith go to a drug dealer and the drug dealers going, "Im out, man, Im sorry. I have nothing left!" Supposedly, he goes to Switzerland and changes his blood, not like one pint, but like a fucking Chevrolet, all of it. I just wanna know, who gets his blood? Some old Swiss mans going "HEIDI! Weve gotta go on tour, you bitch! Weve gotta pay for Micks babies! Cmon!" Because I know this: I know that we may all be dead and gone. Keith will still be there with five cockroaches. Keithll go "You know I smoked your uncle, did you know that? Fucking crazy..."

"[About the Swiss] The nice Germans, Yeah. Or as they like to say, the other white race. Now, I have only one question. How can you trust an army, how butch is an army that has a wine opener on its knife? "Many of you have never opened Chardonnay under fire! First, you pull the cork out, sniff it, say, "Meat or fish?", and throw! (Military cadence) I dont know, but Ive been told, Chardonnay must be served cold! Ja!"

"And you realize how drunk (Scotsmen) get; they could wear a skirt and not care! And how they could invent a sport like golf! [Imitating a drunk Scotsman] "Heres my idea for a fuckin sport. I knock a ball in a gopher hole!" Oh, you mean like pool? "Fuck off pool! Not with a straight stick, with a little fucked-up stick! I whack a ball, it goes in a gopher hole!" Oh, you mean like croquet? "FUCK CROQUET! Ill put the hole hundreds of yards away! Oh, fuck, oh yeah! Its great fun, there! Oh, yeah, its a great thing!" Oh, like a bowling thing? "FUCK NO! Not straight, I put shit in the way! Like trees and bushes and high grass! So you can lose your fuckin ball and go whackin away with a fuckin tire iron! Whackin away and each time you miss, you feel like youre gonna have a stroke, ah ha! Fuck, thats what well call it, a stroke! Cause every time you miss, you feel like youre gonna fuckin die! Oh, great! Oh, and heres the better part, oh, fuck, this is brilliant. Right near the end, Ill put a flat piece, with a little flag to give you fuckin hope. But then Ill put a pool and a sandbox to fuck with your ball again! Ah, youll be there trashin your ass, jerkin away in the sand, ah ha!" Oh, and you do this one time? "FUCK NO! EIGHTEEN FUCKIN TIMES!"

"I would like to do Shakespeares only unknown piece, Thats the Way I Lick It ... Its a bleak night my Lord. Look! The moon like a testicle hangs low in the sky. This bodes not well. ... Anon, post-haste, lets get a larger crowd in here. Free Cocaine! Theres no luck. Does anyone have drugs to ease my pain? My Kingdom for a Quaalude! … It is the end! I must go, for I cannot come here, and yet, it has been brief, tis over, and the lights do turn bright. Im melting! Help me! Help me!"