Phyllis: Mr. Neff, why don't you drop by tomorrow evening about eight-thirty. He'll be in then.
Walter Neff: Who?
Phyllis: My husband. You were anxious to talk to him weren't you?
Walter Neff: Yeah, I was, but I'm sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean.
Phyllis: There's a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. Forty-five miles an hour.
Walter Neff: How fast was I going, officer?
Phyllis: I'd say around ninety.
Walter Neff: Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.
Phyllis: Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.
Walter Neff: Suppose it doesn't take.
Phyllis: Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.
Walter Neff: Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.
Phyllis: Suppose you try putting it on my husband's shoulder.
Walter Neff: That tears it.

Rhett Butler: And those pantalettes, I don't know a woman in Paris who wears pantalettes.
Scarlett: Oh Rhett, what do they - you shouldn't talk about such things.
Rhett Butler: You little hypocrite. You don't mind my knowing about them, just my talking about it.
Scarlett: But really Rhett, I can't go on accepting these gifts although you are AWFULLY kind.
Rhett Butler: I'm not kind, I'm just tempting you.
Scarlett: Well if you think I'll marry you just to pay for the bonnet I won't.
Rhett Butler: Don't flatter yourself. I'm not a marrying man.

Gone! Gone! We've got to find him, you understand? We've got to find him before he kills someone! What have I done? Oh God in Heaven! What have I done?

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein

Jake: Whatever blows your dress up, darlin'. You go right ahead and spend your money.
Melanie Carmichael: Oh, but darlin', I thought you said we should think of it as "our money."
[Jake stops cold]
Melanie Carmichael: Just a guess: The words *joint checking* are flashing in your head right now.

We need to come up with a slogan. You know, like "Life is like a box of chocolates," or "Take my hands, boss." Like that monster tard off of "Green Mile."

Gary

Norman Burroughs: Is he an MD doctor?
Deirdre Burroughs: Yes. And as I've told you a hundred times, he got his MD at Yale.
Norman Burroughs: You heard about this guy from where?
Deirdre Burroughs: Doctor Newpall. Augusten's allergist. If you were more of a man and involved in your son's life, you'd know who that was. I smell manure.
Norman Burroughs: I don't smell anything.
Deirdre Burroughs: I do, I smell manure. It's coming out of your ears.
Norman Burroughs: Fucking bitch.

I'm 546, I'm getting too old for this...

Papa

Old Biff: You always did have a way with women.
Young Biff: Get the hell out of my car, old man!
Old Biff: You wanna marry that girl, Biff? I can help make it happen.
Young Biff: Oh, yeah, who are you, Miss Lonely hearts?
Old Biff: Just get in the car, Butthead.
Young Biff: Who are you callin' "butthead." Butthead?

We're your friends, Rosemary. There's nothing to be scared about. Honest and truly there isn't!

Mrs. Gilmore

Try acting like a father, shithead.

Bart

Somebody got to go to college, and it isn't going to be me.

Anne Marie

Carol Ferris: Hal, you're late! This test today - it's important.
Hal Jordan: I'm going to make you look good up there. Don't worry. Now, let's get these pants off and fly some planes.

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