Harry Washello: I know how this sounds, but I answered the phone out there and the guy on the other end he was very, very frantic. He thought I was his dad for a minute, I think he just had the wrong area code.
Fred the Cook: Yeah, so what?
Harry Washello: So he was calling from a missile silo! He said that they were locked in, 50 minutes and counting, to shoot off their nuclear wad. We would be getting it back in an hour and 10. I mean he meant that we're at war! Nuclear war.
Michael: Let her go.
Mr. Big: Shut up! Don't you talk to me. You shut up.
Angela: Too bad they haven't figured out a way to make french fries nutritious. I'm a nut when it comes to french fries.
Babcock: I've got a gun.
Charlie Harrison: I've got a fishing rod. Lets go camping.
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.
Richard Walker: Dede's been dead for over 12 hours.
Michelle: How do you know? What are you, a doctor?
Richard Walker: No corpse stinks that much after only 12 hours. Take my word for it. Yes, I am a doctor.
Harry Callahan: Oh you can set yourself into a bonfire and we'll break out the marshmallows and the weenies but you ain't gonna be on News at Eleven.
Vermeer: What do you think she meant when she said a huge black monster with giant claws?
Eric Visser: I don't know, but I hope your mother-in-law has an alibi.
Vermeer: UGH.
Preston Tucker: Isn't that the idea? To build a better mouse trap?
Abe: Not if you're a mouse.
Vicomte de Valmont: Why do you suppose we only feel compelled to chase the ones who run away?
Marquise de Merteuil: Immaturity?