There was this kid I grew up with; he was younger than me. Sorta looked up to me, you know. We did our first work together, worked our way out of the street. Things were good, we made the most of it. During Prohibition, we ran molasses into Canada... made a fortune, your father, too. As much as anyone, I loved him and trusted him. Later on he had an idea to build a city out of a desert stop-over for GI's on the way to the West Coast. That kid's name was Moe Greene, and the city he invented was Las Vegas. This was a great man, a man of vision and guts. And there isn't even a plaque, or a signpost or a statue of him in that town! Someone put a bullet through his eye. No one knows who gave the order. When I heard it, I wasn't angry; I knew Moe, I knew he was head-strong, talking loud, saying stupid things. So when he turned up dead, I let it go. And I said to myself, this is the business we've chosen; I didn't ask who gave the order, because it had nothing to do with business!

Hyman Roth

[narrating] Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday night. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?

Mark "Rent-boy" Renton

Hurry up big boy, I'm naked and I want you at least twice before Jamie gets home.

Jamie's Girlfriend

The lips of her vagine hang low like wizard's sleeve.

Borat

Hiccup: [to Toothless] We're leaving! Let's pack up. Looks like you and me are taking a little vacation. Forever.
Hiccup: Ah man.
Hiccup: Agh! What the... uh, uh, what are you doing here?
Astrid: I want to know what's going on.
Astrid: No one just *gets* as good as you do. *Especially* you. Start talking! Are you training with someone?
Hiccup: Uh, uh, training? I didn't...
Astrid: [grabbing his flight gear] It better not involve *this*...
Hiccup: I, I know, this... looks really bad, but, you see, this is uh...
Hiccup: [trying to distract her] Uh, you're right! You're right, you're right. I, I'm through with the lies, I've been making... outfits! So, you got me. It's time everyone knew. Drag me back, go ahead... here we go...
Hiccup: OW! Why would you *do* that?
Astrid: That's for the lies! And *that's*...
Astrid: ... for everything else!
Hiccup: Oh man...
Astrid: [gasps and throws them both to the ground] Get down!
Astrid: RUN! RUN!
Hiccup: [grabbing the axe and throwing it away] No! No! It's okay, it's okay!
Hiccup: She's a friend.
Hiccup: You scared him.
Astrid: *I* scared *him*? Who is "him"?
Hiccup: Uh... Astrid, Toothless! Toothless, Astrid.
Hiccup: Duh-duh-duh, we're dead!

Professor Henry Higgins: You see, the great secret, Eliza, is not a question of good manners or bad manners, or any particular sort of manners, but having the same manner for all human souls. The question is not whether I treat you rudely, but whether you've ever heard me treat anyone else better.
Eliza Doolittle: I don't care how you treat me. I don't mind your swearing at me. I shouldn't mind a black eye; I've had one before this. But I won't be passed over!
Professor Henry Higgins: Well then, get out of my way, for I won't stop for you. You talk about me as though I were a motor bus.
Eliza Doolittle: So you are a motor bus! All bounce and go, and no consideration for anybody. But I can get along without you. Don't you think I can't!
Professor Henry Higgins: I know you can. I told you you could.
[pause]
Professor Henry Higgins: [quietly] You've never wondered, I suppose, whether... whether I could get along without you.
Eliza Doolittle: Well, you have my voice on your phonograph. When you feel lonesome without me you can turn it on. It has no feelings to hurt.
Professor Henry Higgins: I... I can't turn your soul on.
Eliza Doolittle: Ooh, you are a "devil". You can twist the heart in a girl the same way some fellows twist her arms to hurt her!

We didn't exactly believe your story, Miss O'Shaughnessy. We believed your 200 dollars. I mean, you paid us more than if you had been telling us the truth, and enough more to make it all right.

Spade

Professor Snape: Potter! What's your hurry?
[Harry walks up to Snape]
Professor Snape: Congratulations. Your performance in the Black Lake was inspiring. Gillyweed. Am I correct?
Harry: Yes, sir.
Professor Snape: Ingenious.
[Climbs up ladder in his personal store room]
Professor Snape: A rather rare herb, gillyweed. Not something found in your everyday garden.
Professor Snape: [Picks up small vial, then climbs down to floor. He then shows the vial to Harry] Nor is this.
Professor Snape: Know what it is?
Harry: Bubble juice, sir?
Professor Snape: Veritaserum. Three drops of this and You-Know-Who himself would spill his darkest secrets. The use of it on a student is, regrettably, forbidden. However, should you eve steal from my personal stores again, my hand might just slip...
[turns vial sideways, then upright again]
Professor Snape: ...over your morning pumpkin juice.
Harry: I haven't stolen anything.
Professor Snape: Don't... lie... to me! Gillyweed may be innocuous, but boomslang skin? Lacewing flies? You and your little friends are brewing Polyjuice Potion, and believe me, I'm going to find out why!
[Slams door shut in Harry's face]

Kirill: You told me I had one month off.
Gretkov: You told me Jason Bourne was dead.

Glen: Hi I'm Glen. Guess how many fingers I have?
Gary: Ten.
Glen: No. I have eight and two thumbs.

[narrating] Walt Whitman once said, "I see great things in baseball. It's our game, the American game. It will repair our losses and be a blessing to us." You could look it up.

Annie Savoy

Jay: I'm going to be there to rear your child.
Jason: You hear that, Ben? Don't let him near the kid, he wants to rear your child!

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