Lone Watie: Get ready, little lady. Hell is coming to breakfast.
Esther Hoffman: You can trash your life but you're not going to trash mine.
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.
Carson City Marshal Walter Thibido: How are you feeling? A little more poorly everyday?
John Bernard Books: You have a streak of kindness a mile wide.
Carson City Marshal Walter Thibido: That I do.
Margaret White: Carrie, you haven't touched your apple cake.
Carrie: It gives me pimples, Mama.
Margaret White: Pimples are the Lord's way of chastising you.
Colonel Pitts: Where you from, son?
Soldier: Omaha, sir.
Colonel Pitts: By this time next year pigeons are going to be crapping on statues of you across the whole damn state of Nebraska.
RAdm. Tamon Yamaguchi: Once, we filled the sky with our aircraft. Now we win or lose with six fighters and ten torpedo planes.
Janeway: All right, you guys! Let's go! Move out of there.
Melendez: Blow it out your ass, motherfucker.
Harry Callahan: For $75, you get to make it with a rubber dolly.
Howard Simons: Then can we use their names?
Carl Bernstein: No.
Ben Bradlee: Goddammit, when is somebody going to go on the record in this story? You guys are about to write a story that says the former Attorney General, the highest-ranking law enforcement officer in this country, is a crook! Just be sure you're right.
Diana Christensen: Look, we've got a bunch of hobgoblin radicals called the Ecumenical Liberation Army who go around taking home movies of themselves robbing banks. Now, maybe they'll take movies of themselves kidnapping heiresses, hijacking 747s, bombing bridges, assassinating ambassadors. We'd open each week's segment with their authentic footage, hire a couple of writers to write a story behind that footage, and we've got ourselves a series.
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.
Captain J.D. Morales: You just got two speeds on this thing: wide open and stop?
Woody Guthrie: This land is your land/This land is my land/From California to the New York Island/From the Redwood forests to the Gulf Stream waters/This land was made for you and me.
Mario: Somebody's out there.
Hellsgate rancher: They call this country Hell's Gate. When my dad came in here, it was nothing but a bunch of savage Indians. And Jesuits. Old Thomas Jefferson said that he was a warrior so his son could be a farmer, so his son could be a poet. And I raise cattle so my son can be a merchant, so his son can move to Newport, Rhode Island and buy a sailboat and never see one of these bastard-ass sons of bitching mountains again.
Si: Who was Thomas Jefferson?
Hellsgate rancher: A guy back east.
Nicole Dressler: Oh, what is it all about?
Dr. Jonathan Chamberlain: I'd say a slight case of, uh...food poisoning.
Nicole Dressler: I think either you're a lousy doctor or a lousy liar.
Lucy: Are you a doctor?
Al: Yeah, how'd you know?
Lucy: Dirty shoes and clean white hands.
Al: A lot of guys have clean hands.
Lucy: But not that clean. It must have taken you ten years at least to get them that clean.
Al: What are you, a commercial or what?