Well, fuck my ass and call me a bitch.


Well, gentlemen, when the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay.

Lt. Col. Frank Slade

Well, here we are in a room with two manky hookers and a racist dwarf.


Well, I still jerk off manually.

The Dude

John Smith: Come to Daddy.
Jane Smith: [after she bashes him with a teapot and headbutts him] Who's your Daddy now?

Congressman Weaver and esteemed members of the Special Armed Services Committee, I come before you to protest a grave injustice... It has to stop.

General Hummel

Seaman Jones: Conn, sonar! Crazy Ivan!
Capt. Bart Mancuso: All stop! Quick quiet!

Conviction, it turns out, is a luxury of those on the sidelines, Mr. Nash.


[Asking the flight attendant] Could I get a real bottle please? I'm an alcoholic not a Barbie doll.

Maggie Hoffman

Mrs. Jones: Craig, you know what your problem is? You have no game.
Craig Jones: What do you know about game? I got ALL the game.
Mrs. Jones: Now your father... he has game.
Mr. Jones: [coming out of the bathroom] Don't nobody go in the bathroom for about 35, 45 minutes. Somebody open up a window.
Craig Jones: You call that game?

Mookie: Dago, wop, guinea, garlic-breath, pizza-slingin', spaghetti-bendin', Vic Damone, Perry Como, Luciano Pavarotti, Sole Mio, nonsingin' motherfucker.
Pino: You gold-teeth-gold-chain-wearin', fried-chicken-and-biscuit-eatin', monkey, ape, baboon, big thigh, fast-runnin', high-jumpin', spear-chuckin', three-hundred-sixty-degree-basketball-dunkin' titsun spade Moulan Yan. Take your fuckin' pizza-pizza and go the fuck back to Africa.
Stevie: You little slanty-eyed, me-no-speaky-American, own-every-fruit-and-vegetable-stand-in-New-York, bullshit, Reverend Sun Myung Moon, Summer Olympics '88, Korean kick-boxing son of a bitch.
Officer Long: You Goya bean-eating, fifteen in a car, thirty in an apartment, pointed shoes, red-wearing, Menudo, mire-mire Puerto Rican cocksucker. Yeah, you!
Sonny: It's cheap, I got a good price for you, Mayor Koch, "How I'm doing," chocolate-egg-cream-drinking, bagel-and-lox, B'nai B'rith Jew asshole.
Mister Senor Love Daddy: Yo! Hold up! Time out! TIME OUT! Y'all take a chill! Ya need to cool that shit out! And that's the double truth, Ruth!

Damn! We're in a tight spot!

Ulysses Everett McGill

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