Father Brian Finn: If I was to tell you that I loved you and I'd give it all away just to be with you, what would you say?
Woman in Bar: Good night, Paulie.
Father Brian Finn: Yep. That's about par for the evening.

Lester Burnham: So, Janie, how was school?
Jane Burnham: It was okay.
Lester Burnham: Just okay?
Jane Burnham: No, Dad, it was spectacular.

I care very much about aviation.

Howard Hughes

[first lines]
Radio disc jockey: [on radio] Hi, everybody, this is your Cousin Brucie. Whoa! Our summer romances are in full bloom, and everybody, but everybody's in love. But cousins, here's a great song from The Four Seasons.
Baby: [voiceover] That was the summer of 1963 - when everybody called me Baby, and it didn't occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before the Beatles came, when I couldn't wait to join the Peace Corps, and I thought I'd never find a guy as great as my dad. That was the summer we went to Kellerman's.

You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.

Miracle Max

See this system here? This is Hi-Fi... high fidelity. What that means is that it's the highest quality fidelity.

Buck Swope

Ages three and up! It's on my box! Ages three and up! I'm not supposed to be babysitting Princess Drool!

Mr. Potato Head

Harry Sanborn: I love ya.
Erica Barry: Well, I love you too! If that's what you said. I don't know if it ends in a 'ya' if it's a true 'I love you.'
Harry Sanborn: You're not like anybody.

Ordell Robbie: Is that what I think it is?
Jackie Brown: What do you think it is?
Ordell Robbie: I think it's a gun pressed up against my dick.
Jackie Brown: Well, you thought right. Now take your hands off from around my throat, nigga.

You're not like the others. You're curious. But if you want to stay here, I need to know that you're going to follow the rules.

Alby

Harry Hogge: Cole, you're wandering all over the track!
Cole Trickle: Yeah, well this son of a bitch just slammed into me.
Harry Hogge: No, no, he didn't slam you, he didn't bump you, he didn't nudge you... he *rubbed* you. And rubbin, son, is racin'.

Arthur: We don't have any thing in common. You love horses.
Arthur: I don't trust them. Their shoes are permanent.
Arthur: Who makes that kind of commitment to a shoe?

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