Sinclair: Man, if we get outta this thing, I want you to come to the States. I'll show you some stuff that you'll never believe.
Vodovsky: No way, my friend. I'm told in the States they shoot Communists in the streets.
Sinclair: Hell, man. In Detroit, my hometown, they shoot everybody in the streets.
Ben: Happy fuckin' Birthday.
Daryle: Think of all the clothes I could have bought in Europe.
Billy: Ahh forget it. None of us speak European anyway.
Tetsuo: Twin ceramic rotor drives on each wheel! And these look like computer controlled anti-lock brakes! Wow, 200 horses at 12,000 rpm.
Tangina: My God! he found heR.
Richard Walker: Who were the two guys in her apartment?
Douglas Shaap: Probably our side.
Richard Walker: Our side? Your side.
Lorna: You are certifiable! What is this? Some sort of smart-ass joke? You're taking cooking?
Michael: I want to learn how to cook.
Lorna: Yeah, right. You have some burning desire to learn how to make apple brown betty.
Michael: What are you doing here if you think so highly of it?
Lorna: Well, they wouldn't let me take auto mechanics, and I didn't have time to take the issue to the Supreme Court.
Vicomte de Valmont: I often wonder how you manage to invent yourself.
Marquise de Merteuil: Well, I had no choice, did I? I'm a woman. Women are obliged to be far more skillful than men. You can ruin our reputation and our life with a few well-chosen words. So, of course, I had to invent, not only myself, but ways of escape no-one has every thought of before. And I've succeeded because I've always known I was born to dominate your sex and avenge my own.
Capt. Bartholomew Clark: Let's get the basic relationship down... I'm the lifeguard, you're the drowning man. If you relax, I can bring you to shore. If you fight me, then I'll have to slap you around.
Sembagare: They think you are a witch.
Dian Fossey: They wouldn't be the first.
Camille Claudel: You're wrong to think it's about you. You're a sculptor, Rodin, not a sculpture. You ought to know. I am that old woman with nothing on her bones. And the aging young girl... that's also me. And the man is me too. Not you. I gave him my toughness. He gave me his emptiness in return. There you are... three times me. The Holy Trinity, trinity of emptiness.
Charlotta: Is this your blood... or mine?
Sgt. Major Ross Maclure: You open your mouth one more time, and I'll shove your head so far up your ass, you'll be talking out of your armpit.
John The Baptist: God demands anger.
Sharkey: What the fuck is this?
Frank McBain: Your worst nightmare, Butt-horn.
