Paul Shaffer: Bill.
Bill Murray: Paul.
Paul Shaffer: Yeah. Where we going?
Bill Murray: You haven't quit drinking yet, have you?
Paul Shaffer: Should I?
Bill Murray: Good man.
Pete: You brought your guitar.
Ricki: Yeah, just the one.
John Smith: I want you to know, I'm a big fan of your work, 47. It's an honor to meet a legend.
Agent 47: I thought you could only be a legend after you are dead.
John Smith: Oh, but you are. You just don't know it yet.
Father Mike Corridan: We go from third-rate schools to first class high-tech prisons.
James: Just be glad you don't have what Samantha had got.
Riley: Why, what'd she have?
James: Well, you know, they're not really telling me much but my buddy over at the coroner's office said it's some kind of necrotic STD - it's some really gnarly shit.
Riley: Shit?
Riley: Yeah... well you didn't fuck her did you?
James: Neh... What? No.
Gertrude Bell: Paradise has no time, age or sanctuary. Awaits us.
Kristen: Why didn't you protect him?
Ron: Normally, friendships grow organically. And if they don't serve both parties, they just kind of dissipate.
Simon: Yeah, that'd be great.
Ron: What you're talking about is, you know, an asymmetric thing. A one-sided friendship? I mean, essentially you're being forced into a breakup.
Frank Stockburn: Boy, you got your mom's muscles. You a prizefighter?
Chico: No, actually, I'm a... piano player.
Jim White: So, do you guys get paid by the hour?
David Diaz: No, the field.
Matthew: The cross is bloodstained. It loves. It forgives. It demands.
Petit's Mother: Edmond, could we reconsider... give him one more chance?
Petit's Mother: No, the carrots are cooked.
Jack Dwyer: I killed someone.
Hammond: You're alive, Jack. Your family's alive.
Jupiter Jones: Yeah, because a dream is the only way any of this make sense.
Caine Wise: Compared to what? The idea that you're the only intelligent species, on the only inhabitable planet, in a universe so full of planets that you don't even have a number to describe how many there are.
Scott Fischer: Sit down man, acclimatize.
Danny Collins: Hank, I haven't written a song in thirty years. thirty years. I'm a fucking joke.
Cheung Wing-sing: Why'd God make women pretty but dumb?
Cheung Wing-sing: They're pretty, so men will like them.
Cheung Wing-sing: They're dumb, so they will like men.
Greg: Summer. What does that word even mean, right? More "summ." Winter, same deal. More "wint"?
Bucky: Such a fuss, when everything we want is right in front of us the whole time.