Dorian: I'd like to be the father-to-be.
Sally: You can't be the father and the brother! That's the kind of thing that messes kids up.
Ivy: Somebody has to teach this beautiful bird some manners. Might as well be me.
Paulie: What's wrong with my manners?
Charlie: You the man.
Jack: No, I'm the snowman.
Cisco: That mother fucker loaded...he got piles of cash just layin' around the crib.
David: Yeah, where's our lawyer?
Big Bob: Oh, I think we want to keep these proceedings as pleasant as possible.
Sally Owens: Louis L'amour, who, by the way, was not a foreigner! He was from North Dakota, you asshole.
Miss Clavel: You're giving me a gray hair.
Madeline: Could I see?
Miss Clavel: No.
Thomas Builds-the-Fire: Sometimes it's a good day to die, and sometimes it's a good day to have breakfast.
Matko Destanov: The Bulgarians always say: "Brother, if you can't solve a problem with money... solve it with a lot of money."
Father Gladden's Fan on Porch: Did you agree with the Beatles, years ago, at the height of their fame, that they were bigger stars than Jesus?
Father Gladden: The world population was much less then.
Bustopher Jones: When I'm seen in a hurry, there's probably curry at the Siamese or at the Glutton.
Tracey Wilkinson: When did I become your slave?
Jake Wilkinson: The day you were born.
Mari Hoff: Ah, your not the famous phone bill, are ya?
Aggie Cromwell: Being normal is vastly overrated.
Morgan's hitman: You've got two choices. Give us the disk and jump off.
Morgan's Hitman: Or number two, we take the disk and throw you off.
Who Am I?: I like the third choice: I keep the disk, and I throw you both off.
Lisa Dolittle: ...There's more to this HMO deal than money. You sell, they own you.
Dr. John Dolittle: Lisa, this is gonna be good for us.
Lisa Dolittle: I'm so tired of that rap. It's always for US, but sometimes I don't know who US IS!.
Lady Juliana: You're mad.
Ruber: I'm so glad you noticed. I've been working at it for years.
Pratt: Permission to check on the condition of my woman, sir? I wanna check on her bandages and see if she can keep some food down.
Edwards: You are aware, of course, that this woman of yours is... made of... straw?
Pratt: Oh, yes, sir. Figure that's why she burned so easy.
Sam: Kelly Van Ryan is accusing me of rape.
Kenneth Bowden: Kelly Van Ryan? As in Sandra Van Ryan?
Sam: As in, I'm fucked.
Tiffany: Oh, Chucky look at us. We belong dead. Good bye darling, I'll see you in hell.