“I know that. What's your point?”

“I don't know about your true form, but the weight of your ego sure is pushing the crust of the earth toward the breaking point.”

“Perv."
He pointed to himself. "Male and eighteen. What's your point?”

“Whether people accept this music or not, I don’t give a damn. I know how good—and right—the group is. We all sell out to a point. And don’t get me wrong, I like living comfortably and having a nice car. But if money determines your art, then what’s the point?”

“So what’s the point? Only this: what is above knows what is below, what is below does not know what is above. While climbing, take note of all the difficulties along your path. During the descent, you will no longer see them, but you will know that they are there if you have observed carefully.”

“Aphrodite: Pfft. That's not the point. Follow your heart.
Percy: But… I don't know where it's going. My heart, I mean.”

“No matter where I was, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California.”

“I think half the point of painting a picture is that you don't know what will happen … that if painters did know what was going to happen they wouldn't bother to do it.”

“France is your natural enemy; she is more so as a republic than as a monarchy. We know less at what point a nation will stop than a king.”

“You know what I just realized? Jack Black… Jack White! [points to Jack White]”