Palmer Joss: What are you studying up there?
Ellie Arroway: Oh, the usual. Nebulae, quasars, pulsars, stuff like that. What are you writing?
Palmer Joss: The usual. Nouns, adverbs, adjective here and there.
Donnie: I asked her that myself one time. She said I was the only man in town that knew how to fuck.
David: You're disgusting.
Dr. Louise Banks: If you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change things?
Jacket Slogan: Live fast. Die clown.
Turk: Do you like poetry?
Charles Randall: Yeah, I do. Roses are red, violets are blue. I wanna poke your fucking eyes out with my dick, you fuck.
Ceniza: Even Hell has its heroes, señor.
Donnie: Life isn't that simple. I mean who cares if Ling Ling returns the wallet and keeps the money? It has nothing to do with either fear or love.
Kitty Farmer: Fear and love are the deepest of human emotions.
Donnie: Okay. But you're not listening to me. There are other things that need to be taken into account here. Like the whole spectrum of human emotion. You can't just lump everything into these two categories and then just deny everything else!
Daphne Castle: The whole world knows that you are a man of enormous discretion.
Ed: Listen to me, dude, I'm having a really fucked-up, really wet, very bad fucking day.
David Percival: You can't un-fuck what's been fucked.
Jensen: Did you know that cats can make one thousand different sounds and dogs can only make ten? Cats, man. Not to be trusted.
Dr. Grace Hart: Shall we begin the autopsy? Dr. Grace Hart.
Watson: A woman doctor?
Holmes: Impossible. Fortunately we have a real doctor here.
Watson: Would you like some heroin?
Tom Farrell: Let's get out of here.
Susan Atwell: My date's not going to like that much. But what the hell, his wife will be delighted.
Jamesir Bensonmum: She murdered herself in her sleep, sir.
Dick Charleston: You mean suicide?
Jamesir Bensonmum: Oh no, it was murder, all right. Mrs. Twain hated herself.
Sergeant Howie: What religion can they possibly be learning jumping over bonfires?
Lord Summerisle: Parthenogenesis.
Sergeant Howie: What?
Lord Summerisle: Literally, as Miss Rose would doubtless say in her assiduous way, reproduction without sexual union.
Sergeant Howie: Oh, what is all this? I mean, you've got fake biology, fake religion... Sir, have these children never heard of Jesus?
Lord Summerisle: Himself the son of a virgin, impregnated, I believe, by a ghost.
Carl Van Loon: Your powers are a gift from God, or whoever the hell wrote your life script.
Lincoln Rhyme: Whatever happened to your father doesn't mean it's gonna happen to you. You're a great cop. You'd make a terrific detective. It's a gift. Don't throw it away.
Ethel: You dumb dildo.