Lloyd: What do you mean you don't bet? Wussy! Wussy!
Harry: I never have and I never will.
Lloyd: Yeah, right. I bet you twenty bucks I can get you gambling before the end of the day.
Harry: No way.
Lloyd: I give you three to one odds.
Harry: No.
Lloyd: Five to one?
Harry: No.
Lloyd Ten to one?
Harry: You're on.
[Lloyd and Harry both shake hands and smile.]
Lloyd: I'm gonna get you.
Harry: Nuh-uh.
Lloyd: I don't know how, but I'm gonna get you.
Harry: Nuh-uh.
Forrest Gump: I may not be a smart man, but I know what love is.
One Stab: Tristan died in 1963. The moon of the popping trees. He was last seen up in the North Country, where the hunting was still good. His grave is unmarked, but it does not matter. He had always lived in the borderland anyway, somewhere between this world and the Other.
Sarah: People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the Land of the Dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can not rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.
The Creature: I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
George: Excuse me, sir, can I help you? Oh, Mr. Swinton, I didn't recognize you.
Stewart: I'm here to see Miss Alden, George.
George: Well, I'm afraid I'll have to call. May I ask your business with Miss Alden?
Stewart: My business is pleasure, George. Does she look like the fuck of the decade or what?
Pumbaa: Hey, Timon, ever wonder what those sparkly dots are up there?
Timon: Pumbaa, I don't wonder; I know.
Pumbaa: Oh. What are they?
Timon: They're fireflies. Fireflies that, uh... Got stuck up on that big bluish-black thing.
Pumbaa: Oh, gee. I always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away.
Timon: Pumbaa, with you, everything's gas.
Friedrich Bhaer: I am going to the west. They need teachers and they are not so concerned about the accent.
Jo March: I don't mind it either.
Doc Holiday: My mama always told me never put off till tomorrow people you can kill today.
Uncle Vester: Whoa! My momma dead! Now I gotta cut ya! That's the rule, cut ya, cut ya.
Fiona: There's a sort of greatness to your lateness.
Charles: Thanks, it's not achieved without real suffering.
Troy Dyer: I've wanted you like this for all these years.
The Judge: Deciding what is true and what isn't now seems to me...a lack of modesty.
Valentine: Vanity?
The Judge: Vanity.
Queen Uberta: Where is Derek? Oh, never mind, I know where he is. Working on the mystery of the Fat Animal.
Rogers: The Great Animal, Your Highness.
Queen Uberta: Great, fat. It's large and has fur.
Pablo Neruda: Even the most sublime ideas sound ridiculous if heard too often.
Carol: Oh, I guess we should stop, 'cause Harold has to pee.
Rudy Travis: Get back in the front. Get back up there with Harold! Get up there.
Harold Carvey, DVM: I don't want to play... this game... anymore.
Rudy Travis: You pee in your pants.
Peter: I can't believe you're gonna let a few little letters of the alphabet keep us apart. It is a detail! Just - look, just call me Damon, okay? It'll be like a nickname.
Mickey: The media is like the weather, only it's man-made weather.
Tania: He says they're not sleeping together. She only sucks him off.
Cheryl: Why?
Tania: Out of respect for me.
Nicole: Bitch.