
Richard Kimble: I didn't kill my wife!
Sam Gerard: I don't care. (00:37:10)

Miklo: What am I going to tell my parole officer?
Popeye: Tell him to suck his pee-pee.

Jack Colt: Who are you?
Mr. Jigsaw: I'm your worst nightmare.
Jack Colt: No, waking up without my penis is my worst nightmare.

Phil: I killed myself so many times I don't even exist anymore.

Wallace: Cracking toast, Gromit.

Charlie Mackenzie: Harriet. Harry-ette. Hard-hearted harbinger of haggis. Beautiful, bemuse-ed, bellicose butcher. Un-trust... ing. Un-know... ing. Un-love... ed?"He wants you back," he screamed into the night air like a fireman going to a window that has no fire... except the passion of his heart. I am lonely. It's really hard. This poem... sucks.

John Spartan: Brake! Brake! Brake now, you Mickey Mouse-piece of shit!

Mary Jo Buttafuoco: This is, like, the worst thing that could ever happen.

Larry Lipton: Claustrophobia and a dead body - this is a neurotic's jackpot.

Caine: For all the bullshit they try to teach you in high school, I graduated with about half of it. But then, I didn't go to school but half the time. The other half, I was out selling dope. Growing up out here, there was shit that couldn't be learned in no classroom.

Eddie: What am I, a fucking retard, man? Am I A fucking retard, HUH? I know what this is! Lou's trying to snuff me out because of his greasy little nephew being around! well, vive LA fucking france, MAN.