Nagiko: The smell of white paper is like the scent of skin of a new lover who has just paid a surprise visit out of a rainy garden. And the black ink is like lacquered hair. And the quill? Well, the quill is like that instrument of pleasure whose purpose is never in doubt but whose surprising efficiency one always, always forgets.
Principal McGee: I'm Mr. McGee. I've heard so much about you, Jack.
Jack: Hi, Mr. Magoo.
Principal McGee: McGee.
Jack: McGee.
Principal McGee: Yes.
Jack: Magoo.
John Henderson: We're in the 90s, mother. It's fancy jam time.
Max Connor: I wish I had junk food from here to the sky.
Kazaam: Why not? Higher than high?
Rat: I say! Badger.
Dorothy: Maybe love shouldn't be such hard work.
Luvven Coddle: I sense a - a yearning in you - a - a searching - almost - as if you're lost. You've been lost for a long, long time. Am I right?.. You found Jesus, Al.
Al Fountain: Why? Is he missing?
Nicole: Come on, she's not a murderer. She's an ex-nun, for Christ's sake.
Voguel: I remember them. They disappeared overnight like dial phones.
Ilana Green: I get so damned apocalyptic when I drink.
Monfriez: Sir, if you get a hangfire on your weapon, what do you do? You wait, with your weapon pointed in a safe direction, 'cause sometimes the primer bursts, and if you open the chamber it blows up in your face. Leave this round in the chamber, sir.
Tally: When I asked you how long you could stay and you said, 'Long enough, ' how long is that? When we're not together.
Warren: ...Everything shuts down.
Capt. Tom Pickett: I'm here about a murdered policeman, got himself killed the other side of the river in some crummy little Mexican town. A few locals killed, too, and a double-dealing Commandant named Ramirez. But the man I'm concerned about was an American on the border patrol. He had a family. Well liked by his brother officers. I guess he strayed a little bit in some departments, but he was an officer of the law, just the same.
Emma Woodhouse: How fascinating that any discordancy between us must always arise from my being wrong.
Mr. Knightley: Not fascinating, but true.
Freddie: I dream of being in a Las Vegas hotel where all of the towels smell like Downy Fabric Softener.
Zeke: Step outside.
Rafe Guttman: Sorry, Zeke - I'm just not in the mood for a blowjob.
Bodacious TV Anchor: ...this may be the first time that a serial killer has used poison cereal to kill his victims.
Franklin: Boy you're touchy.
Travis: He's got hemorrhoids, Franklin.
Franklin: You got 'roids?
Tom Servo: Ah, they're going 65, so they'll be there in 3 billion years.
Rem: Snipa on palm tree.
Bobby DeLaughter: I don't see what difference it makes if a man was bushwhacked yesterday, today, or 27 damn years ago. Murder is murder. And it's still my job to bring the son of a bitch to justice. And it's still your job to help me.
Delamar Dennis: No! I did my job. I testified against the Klan. They shot out my windows, blew up my car, they hunted and harassed me for twenty five years. Don't that get me even for the wrong I done?
Bobby DeLaughter: We never get even for the wrong we've done.