Carl Anheuser: You're telling me that the North Pole is now some where in Wisconsin?
Professor West: Actually, that's the South Pole now.
Veronica Franco: Recant the curse you give my kind. Admit I have, as you, a heart and mind.
Maffio Venier: A greedy hand, an empty heart is all that wrests your legs apart.
Maffio Venier: May sing... and rhyme... and more. Still... is at best a slut... with every horny mutt! You pride yourself on arts and letters, and fucking best your manly betters.
Veronica Franco: I save the goodly wives of Venice from their husbands' lustful menace.
Gabriel Caine: Do you know the difference between a hustler and a good con-man?
Fitz: No.
Gabriel Caine: A hustler has to get out of town as quick as he can, but a good con-man - he doesn't have to leave until he wants to.
Dr. Mark Weller: John, do me a favor. Don't ever confide in me. I'm utterly useless in these areas. I'm really a very self-absorbed man.
Tommy Fawkes: Why do all the best things in life belong to the past?
Kelly Scott: [On the phone.] Thank you, it's so rewarding to imagine my tax dollar finding its way to you, you fuckshit!
Hector Cyr: You are a saucy flirt.
Hector Cyr: She tell you that we had sex together? So vigorous!
Kelly Scott: I never had sex with you!
Hector Cyr: I'm horrible in bed. They never remember.
Hector Cyr: I'm a civilian, not a trout - you have no authority over me whatsoever.
Sheriff Hank Keough: I never heard of a crocodile crossing an ocean.
Hector Cyr: Well, they conceal information like that in books.
Sheriff Hank Keough: Crocodiles can't swim in salt water.
Hector Cyr: Yeah, well, that'll be your little secret.
Deputy Sharon Gare: Seems like we're getting lower.
Hector Cyr: That's what happens when I land.
Hector Cyr: I could probably cut him down, but there's this odd look of mayhem on his upside-down face.
Jim Burns: I can think of one memory. She was wearing a pink nightgown.
Timmy Burns: That was ME.
Jimmy King: Wakie Wakie, Hands off Snakey.
Goldberg: Can you... say it now?
Cashier: I'm your bitch and you're my daddy.
Jimmy King: Rolled right off his tongue.
Jimmy King: I got three words for you, baby! Nine One One.
Porthos: Go home. Find a wench. Raise fat babies and have a good, long life.
Peter Steinberg: You've made your big gay bed and now you must slumber gaily in it.
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