Heather Holloway: Heather Holloway.
Nick Naylor: Nick Naylor. Big Tobacco.
Heather Holloway: [holds up tape recorder] Is this kosher?
Nick Naylor: Only if I can call you Heather.
Heather Holloway: By all means. So, Mr. Naylor ...
Nick Naylor: [interrupting] Nick.
Heather Holloway: Nick. Let's start with ...
Nick Naylor: '82 Margaux.
Heather Holloway: Okay. Is it good?
Nick Naylor: "Good"? It'll make you believe in God.

[to Henry] I was just remembering the last time we had a quiet drink together. I had a milkshake.

Indiana Jones

Scarlett: Rhett, don't. I shall faint.
Rhett Butler: I want you to faint. This is what you were meant for. None of the fools you've ever know have kissed you like this, have they? Your Charles, or your Frank, or your stupid Ashley.

Huggy Bear: I am an urban informer. I am not a snitch.
Starsky: Come on Huggy, what's the difference?
Huggy Bear: A snitch wears a wire. A snitch is the scum of the information industry.

Store Clerk: Hey, freeze bitch!
Mike Lowrey: [as he points the gun her way, in a flash Mike and Marcus stop arguing and point their guns at his head] YOU freeze, bitch!
Store Clerk: Oh shit, I'm fucked.
Mike Lowrey: Now back up, put the gun down, and get me a pack of Tropical Fruit Bubblicious.
Marcus Burnett: And some Skittles.

Margaret: He must like you very much.
Marianne: It is not just for me. It is for all of us.

Willie: You know how to fly, don't you?
Indiana Jones: Um, no. Do you?

They don't call me balls out Natalie for nothing.

Natalie

Food fight!

Bluto

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Your father pedals car telephones at a 300 percent markup. Your mother works on heavy commission at a camera store. Graduated to it from espresso machines. Hah!
[pause]
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: What are you, dying of some wasting disease?
Charlie Simms: No, I'm right - I'm right here.
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: I know exactly where your body is. What I'm looking for is some indication of a brain. Too much football without a helmet? Hah! Lyndon's line on Gerry Ford. Deputy debriefer, Paris, peace talks, '68. Snagged a silver star and a silver bar. Threw me into G-2.
Charlie Simms: G-2?
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Intelligence. Of which you have none.

[as Robbie walks past him] There he is. Hey, Robbie. You got a hug? A confusing handshake? Kick in the teeth? The door's locked.

Ray Ferrier

Sybil Stone: He's gonna ask me for that ring...
Susannah Stone: Mom, *enough* about the ring.

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