Slick: I wanna shoot someone y'kno and this feels like just the gun to do it with.
Jack Colt: Who are you?
Mr. Jigsaw: I'm your worst nightmare.
Jack Colt: No, waking up without my penis is my worst nightmare.
Chuck Norstadt: You know, I can't see your scars anymore. I can hardly even tell they're there.
Sergeant 'Buster' Kilrain: Some of them, they load and load, they never fire. They just keep right on loading. Some of them come home with seven, eight bullets rammed up in the barrel, never fired a shot.
Mitch Leary: Do you have what it takes to take a bullet, or is life too precious?
Frank Horrigan: Well, I'll be thinkin' about that when I'm pissin' on your grave.
Lenina Huxley: Let's go blow this guy.
John Spartan: Away! Blow this guy *away*!
Lenina Huxley: Whatever.
Mr. Lee: Take the money.
Bill Foster: You think I'm a thief? Oh, you see, I'm not the thief. I'm not the one charging 85 cents for a stinking soda! You're the thief. I'm just standing up for my rights as a consumer.
Jack Slater: Sir, are you a henchman?
Benedict: No, I only go as far as lackey.
Sarah: Help me! I don't want to die.
Gabe: You're not gonna die.
Bruce Lee: The key to immortality is first living a life worth remembering.
Adam: I follow you home.
Caroline: You follow me home?
Adam: I wasn't finished.
Caroline: Finish.
Adam: I follow you home to make sure you're... safe.
Caroline: Well I never see you.
Adam: I stay pretty far behind. I'm sorry.
Caroline: Well, I mean, don't be sorry... I just.
Adam: I wasn't finished.
Caroline: Finish.
Adam: I am sorry I was late that night.
Charlie Mackenzie: Harriet. Harry-ette. Hard-hearted harbinger of haggis. Beautiful, bemuse-ed, bellicose butcher. Un-trust... ing. Un-know... ing. Un-love... ed?"He wants you back," he screamed into the night air like a fireman going to a window that has no fire... except the passion of his heart. I am lonely. It's really hard. This poem... sucks.
Honey Horneé: Take me, Garth!
Garth Algar: Where? I'm low on gas and you need a jacket.
Honey Horneé: I'm gonna be frank.
Garth Algar: OK. Can I still be Garth?
George Wilson: I can't stand that kid, he's a menace.
Wallace: Cracking toast, Gromit.
Pachanga: Sometime it bes that way, papi.
Santa: Haven't you heard of peace on Earth, and goodwill toward men?
Lock, Shock, Barrel: NO!
Ms. Stroud: Okay guys, one more thing, this summer when you're being inundated with all this American bicentennial Fourth of July brouhaha, don't forget what you're celebrating, and that's the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn't want to pay their taxes.
Paul: It is the worst kind of yellowness to be so scared of yourself that you put blindfolds on rather than deal with yourself. To face ourselves - that's the hard thing. The imagination - that's God's gift, to make the act of self-examination bearable.