Finn McMissile: My apologies, I haven't properly introduced myself. Finn McMissile, British intelligence.
Mater: Tow Mater, average intelligence.
Mr. Gilbert: This isn't The Dead Poets Society, and I am not that bloke on BBC 2 who keeps getting kids to sing in choirs. I especially don't want to hear how well you are settling down at uni or how much growing up you have done in the past 12 months. At best I am ambivalent towards most of you, but some of you I actively dislike, for no other reason than your poor personal hygiene or your irritating personalities. I hope I have made myself clear on this point, and in case any of you think I am joking, I am not. I assure you, once my legal obligation to look after you best interests is removed, I can be one truly nasty fucker. Good luck with the rest of your lives, and try not to kill anyone, it reflects very badly on all of us here.
Ernst Jürgen: We Germans are experts at forgetting. We forgot we were Nazis. Now we have forgotten 40 years of Communism - all gone.
Benjamin Mee: You seem really calm.
Peter MacCready: Ah.
Benjamin Mee: Have you been drinking?
Peter MacCready: All night long.
Benjamin Mee: Thanks for that.
Peter MacCready: Anytime.
Aramis: I'm not really a priest.
Blonde girl: I'm not really a lady.
Aramis: I have 10 minutes.
John: You have no idea of what I'm capable of.
Erik Lehnsherr: I've been at the mercy of men just following orders. Never again.
Pest: Does that look like a dog? No, it isn't a dog!
Wise Man: Don't ever write a check with your mouth you can't cash with your ass.
Carl Van Loon: Your powers are a gift from God, or whoever the hell wrote your life script.
Natalie Geary: Let me welcome you to our humble commode.
Megatron: All I want is to be back in charge. Besides, who would you be without me, Prime?
Optimus Prime: Time to find out.
John Tuld: So, what you're telling me, is that the music is about to stop, and we're going to be left holding the biggest bag of odorous excrement ever assembled in the history of capitalism.
Peter Sullivan: Sir, I not sure that I would put it that way, but let me clarify using your analogy. What this model shows is the music, so to speak, just slowing. If the music were to stop, as you put it, then this model wouldn't even be close to that scenario. It would be considerably worse.
John Tuld: Let me tell you something, Mr. Sullivan. Do you care to know why I'm in this chair with you all? I mean, why I earn the big bucks.
Peter Sullivan: Yes.
John Tuld: I'm here for one reason and one reason alone. I'm here to guess what the music might do a week, a month, a year from now. That's it. Nothing more. And standing here tonight, I'm afraid that I don't hear - a - thing. Just... Silence.
Rachel: A fucking 'Facebook' killer... You're kidding me right?
Chloe: I guess now it would be Twitter, that'd make more sense.
Bethany Hamilton: Love is bigger than any tidal wave, or fear.
Olivia: You have a family, your dad, your sister, Sydney! I don't even remember my mom, I haven't talked to my dad in years and you have the nerve to feel sorry for yourself?
