Regina: Why don't I know you?
Cady: I'm new. I just moved here from Africa.
Regina: What?
Cady: I used to be home-schooled.
Regina: Wait... what?
Cady: My mom taught me at home...
Regina: No, I know what home-school is, I'm not retarded! So you've actually never been to a real school before? Shut up! Shut up!
Cady: I didn't say anything.

Beanie: Spanish what the hell are you doing?
Spanish: I'm just going to get some water. This suit is crazy hot, yo.
Beanie: Put your head back on. That can be very traumatic for the kids.
Spanish: You're right, I'm sorry, sir.
Beanie: Don't sorry me, babe. And shake the tail when you walk. You're better than that.

Detective Dolly: Nobody reported any gunshots.
Paul Smecker: This is an Irish neighborhood. I'm surprised you even got a phone call.

So, did you and Ginny do it?

Ron Weasley

Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us were sleeping, he worked. He had one part time job as a projectionist. See, a movie doesn't come all on one big real. It comes on a few. So someone has to be there to switch the projectors at the exact moment that one reel ends and the next one begins. If you look for it, you can see these little dots come into the upper right-hand corner of the screen.

Narrator

Terry: All right. Now I have complied with your every request, would you agree?
Rusty: I would.
Terry: Good, 'cause now I have one of my own. Run and hide, asshole. Run and hide. If you should be picked up next week buying a hundred-thousand dollar sports car in Newport Beach, I am going to be supremely disappointed. Because I want my people to find you, and when they do, rest assured we are not going to hand you over to the police. So my advice to you again is this: run and hide. That is all that I ask.

Party Goer: There's a midget trapped in the oven!
Thomas: What are they saying?
Kirby: I don't know. All I heard was midget and oven.

Bark like a dog.

Carl Spackler

The helmet I was wearing... Oh come on, that's funny. That's really funny, I mean I'm the only person who wears a helmet to work who isn't putting out fires or racing for NASCAR. But what do you do, I can't quit... their insurance is amazing, what do you do? You laugh. I'm not saying I don't cry but in between I laugh and I realize how silly it is to take anything too seriously. Plus, I look forward to a good cry. It feels pretty good.

Sam

Marla Singer: There are things about you that I like. You're smart, you're funny, you're... spectacular in bed... But you're intolerable! You have very serious emotional problems. Deep seated problems for which you should seek professional help.
Narrator: I know, and I'm sorry...
Marla Singer: Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry, everybody's sorry, but... I can't do this anymore. I can't. And I won't. I'm gone.

Seth: Look at those nipples.
Evan: They're like little baby toes. It's just not fair that they get to flaunt that stuff, you know... and like, I have to hide every erection I get.

Jules: Don't do that! Don't you fucking do that! Don't blow this shit off! What just happened was a fucking miracle!
Vincent: Chill the fuck out, Jules, this shit happens.
Jules: Wrong! Wrong, this shit doesn't just happen.
Vincent: Do you wanna continue this theological discussion in the car, or at the jailhouse with the cops?
Jules: We should be fuckin' dead now, my friend! We just witnessed a miracle, and I want you to fucking acknowledge it!
Vincent: Okay man, it was a miracle, can we leave now?

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