Kevin: I am not your slave.
Riff Randell: Tom Roberts is so boring his brother is an only child.
Captain Mack: Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude of 33 thousand feet... 33 thousand feet? Oh shit, man! We fuckin' higher than Redman at the Source Awards.
American journalist: If you were to give advice to a woman, what would it be?
Edith Piaf: Love.
American journalist: To a young girl?
Edith Piaf: Love.
American journalist: To a child?
Edith Piaf: Love.
P.L. Travers: I will not have her called Cynthia, absolutely not. It feels unlucky. It should be something warm, a bit sexy. How about Mavis?
Dewey Cox: Edith, I am starting to think... that maybe you don't believe in me.
Edith: I do believe in you. I just know you're gonna fail.
Melissa Henning: I've learned that suffering doesn't destroy faith, it refines it.
Moose: Does it always have to end up in a big, giant dance battle?
Garth Algar: If she were a president, she would be Baberaham Lincoln.
Record Company Executive: Your fans are gospel folk, Johnny. They're Christians, and they don't wanna hear you singing to a bunch of murderers and rapists, tryin' to cheer 'em up.
Johnny Cash: Then they ain't Christians.
Patsy Cline: I can't stand it. Makes me want to scream and claw my face.