Captain Miller: James... I'm here to tell you your brothers were killed in combat. They're dead.
Private Ryan: Which one, sir?
Captain Miller: All of them.

Hey, James... you still have anymore of those baby joints?

Mike Connell

Bartleby Gaines: Schrader, what about you?
Sherman Schrader: Well, B, I'm glad you asked actually, cuz since were going to prison, I wanna learn how to carve a shank out of my toothbrush.

Hey, Jake. Jake. I gotta pull over.
[drives the Bluesmobile through a guardrail]

Elwood

Ben: So let's start the interrogation.
Molly: No, no, it's not like that.
Ian: [finishes his drink and hands it to Ben] Here, for the urine test.
Ben: Aw, really? I wish you would have told me I just wizzed in your bushes.

Ritchie: That's it. You're fired.
Isabel Bigelow: Doesn't matter... I quit! Yeah, so you better call my agent.
Jim Fields: You don't have an agent.
Isabel Bigelow: Then call my cable man!

Camille: Are you going to jail?
Tyler Gage: No, I'm not going to jail, but they will have to take me to jail if you don't start knocking. Get outta here.

Rob: Liking both Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel is like supporting both the Israelis and the Palestinians.
Laura: No, it's really not, Rob. You know why? Because Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel make pop records.
Rob: Made. Made. Marvin Gaye is dead. His father shot him.

We didn't run out of planes and television sets. We ran out of food.

Principal

Erica Barry: You know what, Harry. If it's all right with you, I'd like to be friends.
Harry Sanborn: Friends? I'm not ready to be your friend!
Erica Barry: Fine, I understand.
Harry Sanborn: And anyway, do you really buy that horse shit that a man and a woman can be friends after they've had sex?
Erica Barry: I'm friends with my ex-husband but then again, we didn't just have sex.
Harry Sanborn: We didn't just have sex either.
Erica Barry: Then what was it? I'd love to know.
Harry Sanborn: Can I e-mail it to you when I figure it out?

Sid Hudgens: 'It's Christmas Eve in the City of Angels and while decent citizens sleep the sleep of the righteous, hopheads prowl for marijuana, not knowing that a man is coming to stop them! Celebrity crimestopper Jack Vincennes, scourge of grasshoppers and dopefiends everywhere!' Ya like it, Jackie boy?
Jack Vincennes: Yeah, subtle.

Jack Foley: Take your sunglasses off.
Glenn Michaels: I see better with 'em on, man.
Jack Foley: You don't take them off, I'm gonna throw them off the overpass while they're still on your head. Go wait in the car.
Glenn Michaels: Um, we're in civilization now so you can ease up just a little bit.
Jack Foley: I'm sorry! I'd like you to wait in the car please. Take her, put her in the back.
Glenn Michaels: Okay... in the trunk?
Jack Foley: IN THE BACKSEAT! IN THE BACKSEAT!

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