You've Got Mail (1998)

Person in Theatre: Do you mind?
Frank Navasky: A hotdog is singing. You need quiet while a hotdog is singing?

George Pappas: Who belongs to this fish?

Kathleen Kelly: You poor, sad, multimillionaire. I feel so sorry for you.

Joe Fox: Brinkley is my dog. He loves the streets of New York as much as I do, although he likes to eat bits of pizza and bagels off the sidewalk and I prefer to buy them.

Kathleen Kelly: I love daisies.
Joe Fox: You told me.
Kathleen Kelly: They're so friendly. Don't you think daisies are the friendliest flower?

Joe Fox: I could never be with someone who likes Joni Mitchell. "It's clouds illusions I recall/I really don't know clouds at all." What does that mean? Is she a pilot? Is she taking flying lessons? It must be a metaphor for something, but I don't know what it is.

Birdie Conrad: If you need more, ask me, I'm very rich. I bought Intel at six.

Joe Fox: The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino.

Matthew Fox: F-O-X.
Kathleen Kelly: That is amazing, you can spell "fox"! Can you spell "dog"?
Matthew Fox: F-O-X.

Joe Fox: I brought you flowers.
Kathleen Kelly: Oughhh... thank you.

Joe Fox: Kevin, this is possibly the most adorable creature I've ever been in contact with, and if she turns out to be as good looking as a mailbox... I would be crazy enough to turn my life upside down and marry her.

Kathleen Kelly: Wow, I keep on bumping into you.
Joe Fox: Yeah.
Kathleen Kelly: I hope your mango's ripe.
Joe Fox: I think it is. Hey, you want to bump into me on, say, Saturday around lunchtime? Over there?

Joe Fox: I'm sure you must be late for something: volunteering at the Henry Street Settlement, or rolling bandages for Bosnian Refugees.
Gillian Quinn: I am. I'm having my eggs harvested.
Joe Fox: And getting those eggs harvested.

Kathleen Kelly: What will NY152 say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it connects. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing. Not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beating of my own heart. I have mail. From you.

Gillian Quinn: Kiss me, I'm gonna be your wicked stepmother.

Kathleen Kelly: Why did you stop by again? I forget.
Joe Fox: I wanted to be your friend.
Kathleen Kelly: Oh.
Joe Fox: I knew it wasn't... possible. What can I say, sometimes a guy just wants the impossible.

Joe Fox: I like Patricia. I love Patricia. Patricia makes coffee nervous.

Kathleen Kelly: I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of New York. Just the beat of my own heart. I have mail - from you.

Kathleen Kelly: I thought all that Fox stuff was so charming. F-O-X.
Joe Fox: Well, I didn't lie about it.
Kathleen Kelly: "Joe"?"Just call me Joe"? As if you were one of those stupid 22-year old girls with no last name?"Hi, I'm Kimberly!" "Hi, I'm Janice!" Don't they know you're supposed to have a last name? It's like they're an entire generation of cocktail waitresses.

Joe Fox: It wasn't... personal.
Kathleen Kelly: What is that supposed to mean? I am so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn't personal to you. But it was personal to me. It's personal to a lot of people. And what's so wrong with being personal, anyway?
Joe Fox: Uh, nothing.
Kathleen Kelly: Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.