Rayette: I'm gonna play it again.
Bobby: You play that thing one more time, I'm gonna melt it down into hairspray.
Rayette: Let me play the other side then.
Bobby: No, Rayette, it's not a question of sides. It's a question of musical integrity.
Bobby: You keep on talking about the good life, Elton, 'cause it makes me puke.
Palm Apodaca: You know, I read where they, uh, invented this car that runs on, ummm... that runs on, ummm... when you boil water?
Terry: Steam.
Palm Apodaca: Right, steam. A car that you could ride around in and not cause a stink. But do you know they will not even let us have it? Can you believe it? Why? Man! He likes to create a stink! I mean, I've seen filth that you wouldn't believe. Ugh! What a stink! I don't even want to talk about it.
Palm Apodaca: Disposal. What's that but more crap? I've never seen such crap.
Bobby: I move around a lot, not because I'm looking for anything really, but 'cause I'm getting away from things that get bad if I stay.
Palm Apodaca: I had to leave this place because I got depressed seeing all the crap. And the thing is, they're making more crap, you know? They got so many stores and stuff and junk full of crap I can't believe it.
Bobby: Who?
Palm Apodaca: Who? Man, that's who. Pretty soon there won't be any room for man. They're selling more crap that people go and buy than you can imagine. Crap.
Palm Apodaca: Fantastic that you could figure that all out and lie that down on her so you could come up with a way to get your toast. Fantastic.
Bobby: Yeah, well, I didn't get it, did I?
Palm Apodaca: No, but it was very clever. I would have just punched her out.
Bobby: What are you doing screwing around with all this crap?
Catherine: I do not find your language very charming.
Bobby: It isn't. It's direct.
Catherine: I'd like you to leave so that I can take a bath. Is that direct?
Palm Apodaca: People. Animals are not like that. They're always cleaning themselves. Did you ever see, umm... pigeons? Well, he's always picking on himself and his friends. They're always picking bugs out of their hair all the time. Monkeys too. Except they do something out in the open that I don't go for.
Catherine: You're a strange person, Robert. I mean, what will you come to? If a person has no love for himself, no respect for himself, no love of his friends, family, work, something - how can he ask for love in return? I mean, why should he ask for it?
