Delarue: I underestimated you, soldier. You may have killed all my men, but you sure as hell.
Bryan Bontrager: Yeah, see those - all this talking you've been doing at your concerts? That's got to stop, OK? People are paying to hear you sing, not to hear you talk. Do you understand that? No, no, no. You're there to make fans, not enemies.
Rich Wayne Mullins: What can I say? That's what happens when you're honest with religious people.
Alice Klieg: Come with me. Into another time that happened to me.
John du Pont: I'm getting Dave. And I don't care how much it costs.
Ruben: Why are their eyes so big?
Walter Keane: Eyes are the windows to the soul.
Darcy Anderson: I think I've seen you. Have you been here before?
Holt Ramsey: According to the hindus, we all have.
Cheryl: She died a famous woman, denying her wounds, denying her wounds came from the same source as her power.
Professor Coreman: How many of us, I wonder, can recall that childhood moment when we experienced happiness as a state of being. That single moment of untarnished joy. That moment when everything in our world, inside and out, was all right. Everything was all right.
Connor: Hope's a necessity where I come from.
Ernest Holm: Yeah, that is all I am saying. You do not gotta marry her. You don't wanna wait around thinking something is gonna come. Waitin' is a fucking disease. Think something? Feel something? You should do something. Alright?
Proculus: You're brave, I'll give you that, but no savage can ever be a match for a Roman.
Sheriff McDowell: The logging barons always cry "jobs" and "free enterprise," but the truth is, you barely pay enough to put food on the table.
Pemberton: Oh, we pay more than any job these men can get, and that's why there's a line fifty-deep every time there's an opening.
Sheriff McDowell: Openings? Yes, you always have openings, don't you, Mr. Pemberton? Because your camps have killed more men than the war between the States.
Kat Connor: I miss fucking you.
Lizzy: Sweetheart, you're so in over your fucking head. You need more than a Glock and sensible shoes.
Mike Shiner: Popularity is the slutty little cousin of prestige.
Jamie Wellerstein: Did you call your agent.
Cathy Hiatt: He's on a retreat.
Jamie Wellerstein: What the hell is an agent retreat?
Cathy Hiatt: I don't know, they go into the woods and sacrifice actresses to breed more agents.
Buster Matthews: Do you know why they call me Buster?
Beaser: 'Cause you're stupid enough to let them?