Richard Kimble: I didn't kill my wife!
Sam Gerard: I don't care. (00:37:10)
Phil: I killed myself so many times I don't even exist anymore.
Slick: I wanna shoot someone y'kno and this feels like just the gun to do it with.
Miklo: What am I going to tell my parole officer?
Popeye: Tell him to suck his pee-pee.
Alabama: Okey dokey doggie daddy.
Jack Colt: Who are you?
Mr. Jigsaw: I'm your worst nightmare.
Jack Colt: No, waking up without my penis is my worst nightmare.
Nick: We're the same, you and me. We're the same, don't you see?
Bill Foster: We are not the same. I'm an American and you're a sick asshole.
Nick: Just what kind of vigilante are you?
Bill Foster: I am not a vigilante. I am just trying to get home to my little girl's birthday party and if everyone will just stay out of my way, nobody will get hurt.
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.
Pachanga: Sometime it bes that way, papi.
John Connor: They say if you resort to violence, then you've already lost.
Seitz: Sir, what about our friend Coontz?
Paul McDaggett: Well, if we'd let him live, we'd have to have paid him.
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.
Matt: I just haven't been with that many girls.
Vivian: I'm a real good teacher.
Ken Malansky: Of all the courtrooms in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
J.T. Barker: Do you think that jerk Roy do a better job raising your boy than you?
Karen McCoy: At least Roy is his father. At least he has a chance of a normal life with him.
J.T. Barker: Normal? What's not normal about getting on an airplane with your mam and go down to Rio with 3 million bucks?