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Monty Wildhorn, an alcoholic novelist of Westerns, has lost his drive. His nephew pushes him to summer in quiet Belle Isle. He begrudgingly befriends a newly single mom and her 3 girls who help him find the inspiration to write again.
Monte Wildhorn: Never stop looking, for what's not there.
Charlotte O'Neil: I always felt like a book is a friend that does what no friend can do; stay quiet when you wanna think.
Monte Wildhorn: If I ever had me a little girl, I guess I'd want her to be you.
Monte Wildhorn: Drinking is a very demanding profession, and I can't hold down two jobs at once.
Monte Wildhorn: Most times real life doesn't measure-up to what's in our heads, but every now and then it comes pretty close... you happen to catch me in one of those rarefied moments.
Monte Wildhorn: In the future I would appreciate you're not walking my dog. Charlotte O'Neil: He's Dave's dog. Monte Wildhorn: I am not claiming to be his biological father.
[first lines] Monte Wildhorn: What's all that crap on the windshield? Henry: It's ash from the fire. Monte Wildhorn: This is where you're bringing me? Henry: It's rent free. Monte Wildhorn: Before or after it burns down?
Finnegan O'Neil: What's he yellin' at? Henry: Life.
[last lines] Charlotte O'Neil: Looking forward to having you as a neighbor, Mr. Wildhorn. Monte Wildhorn: Just keep the noise down, Mrs. O'Neil.
Monte Wildhorn: That cannot be the response to every admonishment.
Joe Viola: He's just trying to make you a rich son of a bitch. Monte Wildhorn: I'm already a son of a bitch. And I don't care to be rich.