Mr. Wolf: We were never given a chance to be anything more than criminals. But these are the cards we've been dealt, so we might as well play them.
Mr. Wolf: We may be bad, but we're so good at it.
Diane Foxington: You have a chance to write your own story. What have you got to lose?
Mr. Wolf: I don't know, my dignity?
Diane Foxington: Yeah, well, that ship has already sailed.
The Kid: You used to be a cheerleader, didn't you?
Purlene Dupre: Yeah, in the fourth fuckin' grade.
The Kid: And your hair's not really blonde, is it?
Purlene Dupre: Yes, it is.
Floatie Dupre: No it's not, her hair's red, she's a redhead, she's got a bright red bush.
Eric Knox: So where we going, House of Pancakes or The Sizzler?
Vivian Wood: What are you, the cheapest man on the planet?
Eric Knox: I gotta go torture and kill your boss.
Doc: I don't know much about boats, but I would say that one's upside down.
James Reston, Jr.: You know the first and greatest sin of the deception of television is that it simplifies; it diminishes great, complex ideas, trenches of time; whole careers become reduced to a single snapshot. At first I couldn't understand why Bob Zelnick was quite as euphoric as he was after the interviews, or why John Birt felt moved to strip naked and rush into the ocean to celebrate. But that was before I really understood the reductive power of the close-up, because David had succeeded on that final day, and getting for a fleeting moment what no investigative journalist, no state prosecutor, no judiciary committee or political enemy had managed to get; Richard Nixon's face swollen and ravaged by loneliness, self-loathing in defeat. The rest of the project and its failings would not only be forgotten, they would totally cease to exist.
Guy Fleegman: I'm not even supposed to be here! I'm just "Crewman Number Six"! I'm expendable! I'm the guy in the episode who dies to prove how serious the situation is! I've gotta get outta here!
Tommy Webber: Go for the mouth, the throat, his vulnerable spots!
Jason Nesmith: It's a rock! It doesn't have any vulnerable spots!
Guy Fleegman: I know! You construct a weapon. Look around, can you form some sort of rudimentary lathe?
[As the others are about to exit the ship onto a random planet.]
Guy Fleegman: Don't open that! Is there AIR?! You don't know!
Fred Kwan: [Sniffs air.] Seems OK.
[Guy is panicking - as he's the only generic crew member onboard, he think's he's certain to die.]
Lt. Madison: Guy, you have a last name!
Guy Fleegman: DO I?! DO I?! For all you know, I'm just CREWMAN NUMBER 6!
Zaphod Beedlebrox: Hey, excuse me - is this guy boring you? Why don't you talk to me instead? I'm from a different planet...it's true. You want to see my spaceship?
Arthur Dent: You're President, can't you do anything?
Zaphod Beedlebrox: Presidents don't actually have power. Their job is to draw attention away from it.
Justin Hammer: What you did to Tony Stark on that racetrack... WOW!
Justin Hammer: I wanna make Iron Man look like an antique.
Justin Hammer: This is a kinetic-kill, side-winder vehicle with a secondary cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine RDX burst. It's capable of busting a bunker under the bunker you just busted. If it were any smarter, it'd write a book, a book that would make Ulysses look like it was written in crayon. It would read it to you.
Roy: You lookin' for something, sucker?
Frank Mercer: Yeah. My partner. You seen him? He's been missing most of the week. Tall, good-looking guy.
Frank Mercer: Man, you are bad! Did you take your pills?
Frank Mercer: You waited too long. No prize for you.
Sam Bell: You look like a radioactive tampon.
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