Anybody interested in grabbing a couple of burgers and hittin' the cemetery?

Royal

Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery, was frozen in 1967 and defrosted in the Nineties to battle his nemesis, Dr. Evil. After foiling his archenemy's plan to send a nuclear warhead to the center of the earth, Austin banished Dr. Evil to the cold recesses of space and settled down with his new wife, Vanessa, to live happily ever after. Or so he thought...

Narrator

Is what you want for yourself to become someone very different than me?

Flor Moreno

Ellie Arroway: Occam's razor. You ever heard of it?
Palmer Joss: Hack-em's Razor. Sounds like some slasher movie.

What's happenin', hot stuff?

Long Duk Dong

You CANNOT make friends with the rock stars. That's what's important. If you're a rock journalist - first, you will never get paid much. But you will get free records from the record company. And they'll buy you drinks, you'll meet girls, they'll try to fly you places for free, offer you drugs... I know. It sounds great. But they are not your friends. These are people who want you to write sanctimonious stories about the genius of the rock stars, and they will ruin rock and roll and strangle everything we love about it.

Lester Bangs

Philip Lisle: Your documentations and guarantees. If I were you, I'd keep them in a very safe place.
Terry Leather: Yeah, well it very well won't be a safety deposit box.

Damn it, Bones, you're a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can't be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They're the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don't want my pain taken away! I need my pain!

Kirk

Rusty Ryan: Of course, we haven't considered the most obvious solution.
Danny Ocean: Oh yeah?
Rusty Ryan: We could turn ourselves in. Go to jail. Nothing Benedict could do to us there.
Danny Ocean: Yeah, good idea. We all go to the cops and confess to the Bellagio robbery. That averages twenty years for grand larceny for each of us. Yeah, that'd teach him.

Peter Ludlow: Roland, there's a job for you in San Diego if you want it.
Roland Tembo: No thank you. I believe I've spent enough time in the company of death.

Salieri: While my father prayed earnestly to God to protect commerce, I would offer up secretly the proudest prayer a boy could think of: Lord, make me a great composer. Let me celebrate Your glory through music and be celebrated myself. Make me famous through the world, dear God. Make me immortal. After I die, let people speak my name forever with love for what I wrote. In return, I will give You my chastity, my industry, my deepest humility, every hour of my life, Amen.

Hey, Sydney! I could be in Venice by five. I could do that.

Peter

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