Truvy: Sammy is so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt.
Biff: Look, Lorraine, you walk out that door and I won't only cut off you, I'll cut off your kids.
Lorraine: You wouldn't!?
Biff: Oh, wouldn't I? First your daughter, Linda. I'll cancel all her credit cards. She can settle her debts with the bank all by herself. Your idiot son, Dave. I'll get his probation revoked. And as for Marty. Well, maybe you liked to have all three of your kids behind bars just like your brother Joey. One big happy jailbird family.
Clark Griswold: [reciting 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.] When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and...and Eddie with a man in his pajamas and a dog chain tied to his wrist and ankles. What the...?
Young Shirley Valentine: Well, tickle my tits 'til Friday.
Terence Mann: Ray, people will come Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. It's only $20 per person. They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... People will come Ray. People will most definitely come.
Buck: What time do you want me to pick you up after school?
Tia: Don't bother! I'll get a ride with friends.
Buck: No, I have my orders. What time?
Tia: Are you really this stupid? I said I would get a ride. I always get a ride.
Buck: Hey, I'll just call the school, find out what time, and meet you right here.
Tia: Go ahead, call the school. I won't be here.
Buck: Stand me up today, and tomorrow I'll drive you to school in my robe and pajamas and WALK you to your first class. 4:00 okay?
Henry: Come on, Junior.
Indiana: Will you please stop calling me Junior?
Sallah: Please, what does this mean? Always with this Junior?
Henry: That's his name: Henry Jones, Junior.
Indiana: I like Indiana.
Henry: We named the dog Indiana.
Sallah: The dog? You are named after the dog.
Marcus: Can we go home please?
Indiana: I have a lot of fond memories of that dog.
Lady Tanaka: Who sent you?
The Punisher: Batman.
Abraham Lincoln: Fourscore and...[looks at his pocket watch]...seven minutes ago... We, your forefathers, were brought forth upon a most excellent adventure conceived by our new friends, Bill...and Ted. These two great gentlemen are dedicated to a proposition which was true in my time, just as it's true today. Be excellent to each other. And... Party on, dudes!
Maurice: Hey, dude. Come here bud. You don't know it yet, but tonight is your lucky night.
Brian Stevenson: What do you mean?
Maurice: I mean.
Brian Stevenson: I know, you're going to grant me three wishes, right?
Maurice: Wishes? Wishes? Wishes are bush-league leprechaun, pal. I'm a monster, okay. Listen to this. I'm a monster and monsters don't do wishes.
Brian Stevenson: Then what do monsters do?
Maurice: Good question. I have the time of my life.
Anne-Marie: Charlie, will I ever see you again?
Charlie: Sure you will, kid. You know goodbyes aren't forever.
Anne-Marie: Then goodbye, Charlie. I love you.
Charlie: Yep... I love you too.
Virgil Cane: Ain't life a motherfucker.
Mollie: Grandpa, what's going on?
Grandpa: Look, I'm a hostage.
Burly Orderly: He's not a hostage. He's a mean old bastard! You see what he did to my arm? And he gave the nurse a black eye.
Harry Burns: How long do you like to be held after sex? All night, right? See, that's your problem. Somewhere between 30 seconds and all night is your problem.
Sally Albright: I don't have a problem.
Harry Burns: Yes, you do.