Inigo Montoya: Who are you?
Westley: No one of consequence.
Inigo Montoya: I must know.
Westley: Get used to disappointment.
Inigo Montoya: Okay.
Computer: This ship will self-destruct in exactly ten seconds. Counting down. Ten, nine, eight, six.
President Skroob: Six? What happened to seven?
Computer: Just kidding.
Sgt. Moses Hightower: Fools! To think they could kill the brother of Bedulah.
House: Uh-uh. I never thought that.
Sgt. Moses Hightower: Oh, that I could reach into the belly of a yak and rip out its heart.
Kyle: That would bring him back to life?
Sgt. Moses Hightower: No, man. I'm hungry.
Annie: You... and the closet.
Dean Proffitt: That's right. This is me and I'm standing in front of the closet.
Annie: Something's familiar.
Dean Proffitt: Yeah, well... that's 'cause we used to do it in the closet.
Annie: Oh stop with the sex stories.
Adrian Cronauer: You are in more dire need of a blowjob than any white man in history.
Grandpa: One thing I about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach. All the damn vampires.
Charlie: Ten more seconds and I'm leaving! Ten-
Roxanne: What did you say?
Charlie: I said ten more seconds and I'm leaving.
Roxanne: Oh.
Charlie: What did you think I said?
Roxanne: I thought you said earn more sessions by sleeving.
Charlie: What does that mean?
Roxanne: I don't know. That's why I came out.
Ronny Cammareri: I ain't no freakin' monument to justice! I lost my hand! I lost my bride! Johnny has his hand! Johnny has his bride! You want me to take my heartache, put it away and forget?
Daryl: Don't touch it! It could get infected, Jesus! He could get anything - Tetanus, rabies, scabies, emphysema.
Vera Prescott: Why haven't I met you before?
Fred Melrose: Maybe you ain't been hangin' out in the mailroom.
Vera Prescott: Oooh, the "male room." I like that sound.
Jack Putter: We've got the chip.
Lt. Tuck Pendleton: All right.
Jack Putter: We're on the way to the lab.
Lt. Tuck Pendleton: All right.
Jack Putter: But I think they put someone in there with you.
Lt. Tuck Pendleton: All... what?
Miss Rebecca Miller: David, are you drunk?
State Trooper: What the hell are you driving here?
Del: We had a small fire last night, but we caught it in the nick of time.
State Trooper: Do you have any idea how fast you were going?
Del: Funny enough, I was just talking to my friend about that. Our speedometer has melted and as a result it's very hard to see with any degree of accuracy exactly how fast we were going.