Jane: I mean, c'mon! I was comparing men to animals... Which, let's face it, sometimes they are. But sometimes, they are not. Sometimes, you open the barn door, or the bedroom door, or the hospital room door, and you find the real thing. You find a guy that can sit with you when you're at your absolute worst, when your face looks like a punching bag and you're elbow deep in Kleenex, and he can still look at you, and tell you that Ray is not the last man you're ever going to love.
Lance Barton: I got roaches. Who here got roaches?
Man in Audience: Everybody got roaches, man. It's Harlem.
Mrs. Berman: What do you think, Elwood? Do you like the new chair?
Ray Elwood: Can you sit on it, ma'am?
Mrs. Berman: No, of course you can't sit on it, it's an antique.
Ray Elwood: Oh, well, it's very nice.
Gina: Absence makes.
Nino Quincampoix: ...the heart grow fonder.
Osmosis: We were so poor, we lived off peanut butter and cellulite sandwiches! You ever try to blow-dry your hair with a fart?
Drix: OK, I get it. You were poor.
Osmosis: You bet I was! You ever try to make a snowman out of toilet paper cling-ons? Now that's poor!
Drix: OK, please, you're going to make me vomit!
Osmosis: Vomit? We couldn't afford no vomit; that's for rich folk.
Drix: Excuse me while I wipe my eyes.
Osmosis: Oh, you wanna talk about wiping?
Drix: No.
Randy: There's the ten-thousand dollars... well, aren't you gonna count it?
Mr. Burmeister: Nah.
Randy: You trust me?
Mr. Burmeister: No, but I kill people.