Max: Say, listen Doc, I got a new theory about all these suicides. Right?
Dr. Neil Gordon: Don't hold back on us, Max. We need all the help we can get.
Max: It's fucked up chromosomes, man. Think about it. All their parents dropped acid during the sixties.
Dr. Neil Gordon: Well, it beats Simm's theory. She thinks it's nothing but sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll.
Max: Shit. That's what keeps people alive.
Donna: So tell me, what do you feel?
Rowdy Abilene: One man's dream is another man's lunch.
Donna: You son of a bitch.
Ernest P. Worrell: No. I-I can't eat on an empty stomach.
Claudia Draper: I know women who marry men they despise so they can drive a Mercedes and spend summers in the Hamptons.
Patti Rasnick: Music is all that matters. One hour on stage makes up for the other 23.
Tom Beck: What the hell is that?
Sanchez: A flame-thrower man, can you believe it? Patrol picked this up off some homeboy on the street.
Dr. Cynthia Sheldrake: There is a distinct difference between killing someone and fucking them.
Dr. Wallace Wrightwood: So what you're saying is you would be willing, excuse me, Jack would be willing to take in this creature and care for it and love it like a pet?
George Henderson: No, like a member of the family.
Alex Forrest: You're here with a strange girl being a naughty boy.
Dan Gallagher: I don't think having dinner with anybody's a crime.
Gabriel: What's the matter... afraid of the dark?
Judy Bower: No... afraid of what's in the dark.
Walter Davis: Nadia I'm taking you home.
Nadia Gates: To Baton Rouge?
Walter Davis: I'm taking you to your friends house! Now what's the address?
Teri Marshall: Please don't hurt her.
Salvatore Giuliano: You're an American, aren't you?
Camilla, Duchess of Crotone: Yes, and like every other Sicilian you want to go to America and start a pizzaria in Jersey.
Jimmy Garrett: A human pilot would react differently, because a human pilot would know that he's going to die.