Prince Nuada: [to Hellboy] That's your weapon of choice?
Hellboy: [flexing his stone hand] Five fingered Mary!

Major Tom Baxter: I want to talk to General Kramer.
General Hummel: You've been asked by an old friend.
Major Tom Baxter: Put him on the phone right now.
General Hummel: You're being ordered by a superior officer.
Major Tom Baxter: This is Major Baxter...!
General Hummel: [draws] Now you're being given your last chance by a man with a gun. Put the phone down.

Whillenholly: Why are you shooting at me? I'm just a Federal Wildlife Marshall.
Chrissy: Two reasons. One: we're walking, talking, bad girl cliches.
Missy: And two: because you're a man.
Whillenholly: Only on the outside.

Hunter: Captain Ramsey... under operating procedures governing the release of nuclear weapons, we cannot launch our missiles unless both you, and I, agree.
Capt. Ramsey: COB, what're you waiting for?
Hunter: This is not a formality sir, this is *expressly* why your command must be repeated. It requires my assent, I *do not* give it and further more, you continue upon this course, and insist upon this launch without confirming this message first...
Capt. Ramsey: [shouting over Hunter] Son of a bitch. As commanding officer of the U.S.S Alabama I order you to place the Ex-O under arrest under charges of mutiny!

Glen the Desk Clerk: Hello, welcome to the International Inn. How many?
Lieutenant Jim Dangle: There's 8 of us...
Glen the Desk Clerk: 8, 8 people for a suckfest
Lieutenant Jim Dangle: No, no suckfest, were here for a convention.
Glen the Desk Clerk: I like convention too. I'm in a convention, a suckfest convention.

Gee, I'm glad you turned up, we've been looking inside every cake in town.

Cosmo Brown

David Skylark: Kim must die! That’s the American way.
Sook: How many times can the US make the same mistake?
David Skylark: As many times as it takes!

Eva: I know New York is a great city, but I do not miss that lifestyle at all. I mean it was just stress, and Blackberries, and sleeping pills. I used to drink a triple latte every morning just to wake up.
Linda: Well, I see your point, but I kind of value the sleeping pill and the Blackberry and the latte.
Seth: You know you can really get trapped in that web of beepers and Zenith televisions and Walkmens and Discmans and floppy discs and zip drives, laser discs, answering machines and Nintendo Power Glove...
Linda: Wow, you know so much about technology.

Salieri: My plan was so simple. It terrified me. First I must get the death mass and then, I must achieve his death.
Father Vogler: What?
Salieri: His funeral! Imagine it, the cathedral, all Vienna sitting there, his coffin, Mozart's little coffin in the middle, and then, in that silence, music! A divine music bursts out over them all. A great mass of death! Requiem mass for Wolfgang Mozart, composed by his devoted friend, Antonio Salieri! Oh what sublimity, what depth, what passion in the music! Salieri has been touched by God at last. And God is forced to listen! Powerless, powerless to stop it! I, for once in the end, laughing at him! The only thing that worried me was the actual killing. How does one do that? Hmmm? How does one kill a man? It's one thing to dream about it; very different when, when you, when you have to do it with your own hands.

No, I didn't read the piece on China's faceless masses, I was, I was checking out the lingerie ads.

Isaac Davis

Jules: Look, just because I don't be givin' no man a foot massage don't make it right for Marsellus to throw Antwan into a glass motherfuckin' house fuckin' up the way the nigger talks. Motherfucker do that shit to me, he better paralyze my ass cuz I'll kill the motherfucker, know what I'm sayin'?
Vincent: I ain't saying it's right. But you're saying a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm saying it does. Now look, I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, and they all meant something. We act like they don't, but they do, and that's what's so fucking cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, fucking Marsellus knew it, and Antwan should have fucking better known better. I mean, that's his fucking wife, man. He can't be expected to have a sense of humor about that shit. You know what I'm saying?
Jules: That's an interesting point. Come on, let's get into character.

Detective James Carter: We need to get her to relax.
Chief Inspector Lee: Maybe we should put on a dirty movie.
Detective James Carter: Lee!
Chief Inspector Lee: Only $9.95.

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