Bangles: Oh, hi, Bugsy.
Bugsy Malone: Hi, Bangles. Is Blousey there, please?
Bangles: She won't see you.
Bugsy Malone: Tell her I'm sick.
Bangles: You're sick?
Bugsy Malone: Yeah, sick of waiting.
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.
George Caldwell: I've never milked a cow before.
Rita: Cut the gas, Steve, you're a grown man. I'm sure you've had some similar experience.
Travis Bickle: All the animals come out at night - whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.
Janeway: All right, you guys! Let's go! Move out of there.
Melendez: Blow it out your ass, motherfucker.
Sherlock Holmes: No, Watson! The Queen wouldn't like it.
Kathy: I wanted vanilla twist.
Detective Cranston: She is a weird little girl. Did you notice her tits? When I put the tube around her she looked at me, like she wanted me to feel her up.
Harry Callahan: A 357 magnum is a good weapon, but I've seen 38's bounce off windshieds. No good in a city like this.
Sherlock Holmes: No, Watson! The Queen wouldn't like it.
Narrator: And when the sun went down... there was an eerie, ghostly appearance to this town.