Dory: [Reading a door] Hey, look. "Esc-a-pay". Hey, it's spelled just like escape.
Dory: [dreaming] Uhhh... the sea monkeys have my money... yes, I'm a natural blue...
Dory: What is it with men and asking for directions?
Dory: I suffer from short term memory loss. It runs in my family... At least I think it does... Where are they?
[the whale groans] Dory: Okay, he either said, "move to the back of the throat," or he "wants a root beer float".
The houses are all gone under the sea. / The dancers are all gone under the hill.
(September 26, 1888 - January 04, 1965)
Alabama's back on the map.
Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.