"X" marks the spot!Indiana Jones
Kevin: He's pullin' out the porn.
Finch: He's desperate. Jim, just wait 'til she leaves.
[seeing Lincoln begin to address the room as news comes in from Wilmington] You're going to tell one of your stories! I can't stand to hear another one of your stories!Edwin Stanton
Who never says anything even though he never stops talking.Todd Hayes
George Downes: Michaels chasing Kimmy.
Julianne Potter: Yes.
George Downes: Your chasing Michael.
Julianne Potter: Yes.
George Downes: Who's chasing you. Nobody. Theres your answer. It's Kimmy.
The hard part about playing chicken is knowin' when to flinch.Capt. Bart Mancuso
I can't believe we said no to free beer!Valentine McKee
Michael Bolton: You haven't even been showing up for work, and you got to keep your job.
Peter Gibbons: Actually I'm being promoted.
Are you ready for a war?William Wallace
Charlie: Look, kid, I - how much you weigh, son? When you weighed one hundred and sixty-eight pounds you were beautiful. You coulda been another Billy Conn, and that skunk we got you for a manager, he brought you along too fast.
Terry: It wasn't him, Charley, it was you. Remember that night in the Garden you came down to my dressing room and you said, "Kid, this ain't your night. We're going for the price on Wilson." You remember that? "This ain't your night"! My night! I coulda taken Wilson apart! So what happens? He gets the title shot outdoors on the ballpark and what do I get? A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville! You was my brother, Charley, you shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn't have to take them dives for the short-end money.
Charlie: Oh I had some bets down for you. You saw some money.
Terry: You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it. It was you, Charley.
Terence Fletcher: You are upset.
Terence Fletcher: Say it.
Andrew: I'm upset.
Terence Fletcher: Say it so the whole band can hear you.
Andrew: [a little louder] I'm upset!
Terence Fletcher: Louder!
Andrew: [loud] I'm upset!
Terence Fletcher: LOUDER!
Andrew: [louder] I'M UPSET!
Terence Fletcher: You are a worthless, friendless, faggot-lipped little piece of shit whose mommy left daddy when she figured out he wasn't Eugene O'Neill, and who is now weeping and slobbering all over my drum set like a fucking nine-year old girl! So for the final, FATHER-FUCKING time, SAY IT LOUDER!
Andrew: [at the top of his lungs] I'M UPSET!
Terence Fletcher: [going back to compose the band] Start practicing harder, Nieman.
Great balls of fire. Don't bother me anymore, and don't call me sugar.Scarlett