John Slade: The name's Slade.
Julian Rogers: Super. Here's an idea. Why don't you spell it out for me so I can get it right on your tombstone.
Frank Wheeler: Which brings us to... intercourse! Can I have a volunteer?
Senior in restaurant #1: If you have job, you wear the pants.
Doug Chesnic: Don't you see? If he is involved, then her life is worthless, you understand? They had to fucking kill her.
Bailiff: All Rise.
Judge Marcus: To hell with that, let's go.
Jack Hammond: That's the question on the minds of all your viewers? Whether I run out of gas or not? Tell you what, Jer. You let your viewers know that I hope Miss Voss' fear and my desperation are entertainment enough for them. After all, that is what this is all about, isn't it? The story. As it breaks. Live. Coming to you from the bad guy himself. I mean we wouldn't want your viewers to change the fucking channel, now, would we?
Capt. Jason Briggs: Is there a problem with your privates, Private?
Yvonne Biasi: Who wants ice cream on their pie? Who wants pie?
Edward D. Wood, Jr.: I'm a movie director.
Tor Johnson: Movies? You mean like the Mickey Mouse?
Heather: Barry, I saw you, you were kissing her.
Barry: Once, I kissed her once! God, it's like I can't talk to my friends anymore, I can't believe how posessive you are.
Heather: Oh right, I guess that's why you were feeling her up?
Barry: Look, guys need sex. It's bad for you if you get all worked up and then not get it, you can get "prostrate" cancer. Is that what you want?
Red Bean's Mother: You ate my chicken ass, now I'm going to eat your ass.
Albert Einstein: Algae? This is a color?
Carl: You know Ray, since your kid's moved in, the food's gotten better.
Eva: EW! I am so not letting you eat lizards! From now on you are on a strict "no-yuck" diet.
Larry: You think you're the first clown whoever woke up and said "I'm bored, I think I'll have a kid!"
Peter Brackett: Where did you say you were from? Bitchville?
Richard Rich Sr.: Mount Richmore? I did say that we needed a family portrait, Regina. But this?
Regina Rich: Well, it was Rafaelle's idea. She's the artist. I didn't want to stifle her creativity.
Richard Rich Sr.: Oh, honey. You know I'm all for the arts. But don't you think it's a tad pretentious to have our faces 100 feet high? Wait 'til Geraldo gets a hold of this.
Lt. Jake Stone: Don't ever throw a cat on me again.
Felicia: How long have we been on the road?
Bernadette: Four and a half hours.
Rock Reilly: Get in the van!