Maj. Eaton: We have top men working on it now.
Indiana: Who?
Maj. Eaton: Top. Men.

Jack Fuller: Richard Banger? So your name is Dick Banger! Dick Banger!
Banger: And yours is Jack? Jack off! Jack off

Vance: [grabs Hitch by the wrist] You see what I'm doing? This is what I'm about - power suit, power tie, power steering. People can wince, cry, beg, but eventually they do what I want.
Hitch: Oh! So that's, like, a metaphor?
Vance: Oh, yeah.
Hitch: Right. Well, see, I'm more of a literal kind of guy. So when I do this...
[he reverses the grip, twists Vance's arm back and slams him on the table]
Hitch: This is more like me saying that I will literally *break your shit off* if you ever touch me again. Okay, pumpkin?

[paraphrasing Thomas Edison, about invention of light bulb] I didn't fail, I found 2,000 ways how not to make a light bulb; I only need to find one way to make it work.

Ben Gates

[turning into Dark Phoenix] GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

Dr. Jean Grey

Ed Rooney: What's the score?
Pizza Joint Owner: Nothin' nothin'.
Ed Rooney: [not really listening] Who's winning?
Pizza Joint Owner: The Bears.

Doc Holliday: Why Johnny Tyler! You madcap!
Johnny Tyler: Doc?
Doc Holliday: Where you goin' with that shotgun?

Friend: Are you sure Applebee's is the best place to meet hot women?
Rick: You thinking Olive Garden?

Smokey: Older the berry, the sweeter the juice.
Craig Jones: Man, it's the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice.
Smokey: Yeah, well she blacker than a motherfucker too.

Bartleby Gaines: Why'd you get fired?
Glen: I got fired for making a shrimp slushy.
Bartleby Gaines: That's disgusting! Why would you do that pal?
Glen: 'Cause I was hungry and thirsty!

Sergeant: Hello Nicholas.
Nicholas Angel: Hello Sergeant.
Sergeant: How's the hand?
Nicholas Angel: Still a bit stiff.
Sergeant: It can get awfully hairy out there. I'm surprised you weren't snapped up sooner for a nice desk job. That's what I'd do.
Nicholas Angel: I'm afraid I think my office is out on the street.
Sergeant: Indeed you do! Your arrest record is four hundred percent higher than any other officer, which is why it's high time that such... skills... were put to better use. We're making you sergeant.
Nicholas Angel: I see.
Sergeant: [mumbles]
Nicholas Angel: In where, sorry?
Sergeant: In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
Nicholas Angel: But that's in the country...
Sergeant: Yes! Lovely!
Nicholas Angel: Isn't there a sergeant's position here in London?
Sergeant: Oh, no.
Nicholas Angel: Can I remain here as a PC?
Sergeant: No.
Nicholas Angel: Do I have any choice in this?
Sergeant: No!
Nicholas Angel: Sergeant, I kinda like it here.
Sergeant: Well, you've always wanted a transfer to the country.
Nicholas Angel: In twenty years or so, yes.
Sergeant: Well done you.

Surfing Instructor: I once saw him beat a guy up with a starfish!
Peter Bretter: That's ridiculous.
Surfing Instructor: That guy was me.

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