Frank Beardsley: That's it! I am putting the hammer down.
Aldo North: Is it a real hammer?
Frank Beardsley: No Aldo, it's just an expression.
Aldo North: I'm scared.
Helen North: Oh, don't be, honey.
Ethan: Should I go get the hammer, sir?
Annette Prestolani: Oh, my God. Gina Prestolani, who's sauce have you been tasting?
Mameha: We do not become Geisha to pursue our own destinies. We become Geisha because we have no other choice.
Tea Cake: Oh, Janie, you're the kind o' woman that'll make a man forget to grow old.
Sofia: If you have any objections, kindly go to hell.
Todd Jackson: You tell 'em.
Luce: Thorns! Thorns! In my bum! Ow.
Tula: When a woman bends over, a man sees a jelly doughnut. Her brain expands. His explodes. Dead on arrival in her powdered jelly doughnut.
Rose Feller: Was I unfriendly?
Simon Stein: No. Not compared to, say, Stalin.
Marienne Hotchkiss: Dance is a very powerful drug Mr. Keane. If embraced judiciously, it can exorcise demons, access deep seated emotions and color your life in joyous shades of brilliant magenta that you never knew existed. But, one must shoulder its challenges with intrepid countenance if one is ever to reap its rewards.
Adam: I may be damaged goods, but I'm goods none the less.
Ray Porter: Mirabelle Buttersfield moved from Vermont hoping to begin her life. And now she is stranded in the vast openness of LA. She keeps working to make connections, but the pile of near misses is starting to overwhelm her. What Mirabelle needs is an omniscient voice to illuminate and spotlight her and to inform everyone that this one has value, this one standing behind the counter in the glove department and to find her counterpart and bring him to her.