Secretary: How do you write women so well?
Melvin Udall: I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability.
Frau Farbissina: Remember when we froze your semen? You said that if it looked like you weren't coming back we should try to make you a son so that a part of you could live forever?
Dr. Evil: Oh, sure.
Frau Farbissina: Well, after a couple of years, we got a little impatient. Dr. Evil, I want you to meet your son.
Dr. Evil: My son?
Frau Farbissina: Ja. SCOTT!
Mama Joe: One finger pointing the blame won't make no impact, but you ball all those fingers into a mighty fist, and you can strike a mighty blow. Now, this family has got to be that fist.
Himmel: Don't flatter me.
Pest: Alright. You have a big nose, your feet stink and your mother dresses you funny.
Beatrice: I'll tell you something right now; I know Edgar and that wasn't Edgar. It's like something was wearing Edgar like a suit. An Edgar suit.
Alex: Excuse me for being a good citizen.
Charlie Barret: I'm going to give you an opportunity: get out of this. Now. Before it gets so fucked up nobody could ever recover.
Alex Whitman: Where are you going?
Isabel Fuentes: You're not my favorite person right now.
Alex Whitman: Yeah, well, you either.
Debi Newberry: You're a psychopath.
Martin Blank: No, no. Psychopaths kill for no reason. I kill for money. It's a job... That didn't come out right.
Ursula's mother: When Lyle returns, this wedding will proceed as planned. If you do anything to upset that, I'll remove your reason for wearing a loincloth.
Guido: I forgot to tell you.
Dora: Go ahead.
Guido: You can't imagine how much I feel like making love to you. But I'll never tell anyone, especially not you. They'd have to torture me to make me say it.
Dora: Say what?
Guido: That I want to make love to you - not just once, but over and over again! But I'll never tell you that. I'd have to be crazy to tell you. I'd even make love to you now... right here for the rest of my life.
Marty: You don't know when to quit, do ya Griswold? Here's an idea: Why don't you give me half the money you were gonna bet? Then, we'll go out back, I'll kick you in the nuts, and we'll call it a day.
T. Paul: That mask sweaty?
Nick Beam: I think that's the one.
T. Paul: I hid it behind my balls. Ha ha.
Martin Barnfield: We're cooking here. This is a stew, a gumbo, a jambalaya, if you will. We're just jamming.
Willa Weston: What are you doing?
Vince McCain: I'm freezing him.
Willa Weston: Why?
Vince McCain: He's gotta be cryogenically frozen until they find a cure.
Willa Weston: Yeah, a cure? Vince, he has a bullet in the brain.
Vince McCain: Well, get more ice.
Willa Weston: Vince, there is no cure for a bullet in the brain. It is very fatal.