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.
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.
Janeway: All right, you guys! Let's go! Move out of there.
Melendez: Blow it out your ass, motherfucker.
Kate Moore: That's a conspiracy under title 7, Section 182, Paragraph 1 of the California Penal Code. A conspiracy to commit a misdemeanor is in fact a felony, and according to People vs Basso.
Napoleon Wilson: In my situation, days are like women - each one's so damn precious, but they all end up leaving you.
Dwan: You know I had my horoscope done before I flew out to Hong Kong. And it said that I was going to cross over water and meet the biggest person in my life.
Arthur Adamson: Isn't it touching how a perfect murder has kept our friendship alive all these years.
Alice Spages: There's so much junk around this filthy place, I bet you never clean it. It smells like cats' piss.
Mario: Somebody's out there.
Ben Bradlee: All non-denial denials. They doubt our ancestry, but they don't say the story isn't accurate.
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?
Sherlock Holmes: No, Watson! The Queen wouldn't like it.
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.