Rufus: I'm telling you, man, this ceremony is a big mistake.
Cardinal Glick: The Catholic Church does not make mistakes.
Rufus: Please. What about the Church's silent consent to the slave trade?
Bethany: And its platform of non-involvement during the Holocaust?
Cardinal Glick: All right, mistakes were made.

Eight hundred leaf-tables and no chairs? You can't sell leaf-tables and no chairs. Chairs, you got a dinette set. No chairs, you got dick!

Nathan Arizona Sr.

I hate to say this, but this place is getting to me. I think I'm getting the fear.

Dr. Gonzo

Mike Lowrey: You know what man? I'm so sick of this bullshit. What, I'm supposed to APOLOGIZE for my family leaving me money? All I EVER wanted to be was a cop. I go out there and take it to the max everyday. I'm the first guy through the door and I'm always the last one to leave the crime scene. So you know what? Fuck you, and fuck them, and fuck EVERYBODY that's got a problem with Mike Lowrey.
Marcus Burnett: I love you, man.
Mike Lowrey: Fuck you Marcus.
Marcus Burnett: I do. You're cool. You're my boy.
Mike Lowrey: Shut up, shut up Marcus. Slow-ass driver. Drivin' like a bitch. Slow-ass.
Marcus Burnett: Why I gotta be all that? I'll take you and me off this fuckin' cliff if you keep fuckin' with me. Then it'll be what, two bitches in the sea. Huh, is that it? Is that what you want?
Mike Lowrey: Shut up, Marcus.
Marcus Burnett: My wife knows I ain't no bitch. I'm a bad boy.

On November 1st, 1959, the population of New York City was 8,042,783. If you laid all these people end to end, figuring an average height of five feet six and a half inches, they would reach from Times Square to the outskirts of Karachi, Pakistan. I know facts like this because I work for an insurance company - Consolidated Life of New York. We're one of the top five companies in the country. Our home office has 31,259 employees, which is more than the entire population of uhh... Natchez, Mississippi. I work on the 19th floor. Ordinary Policy Department, Premium Accounting Division, Section W, desk number 861.

C.C. Baxter

Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. A normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker signal that says you are about to turn right. This is to let him know you're pulling off for a proper place to talk. It will take him a moment to realize that he's about to make a 180 degree turn at speed, but you will be ready for it. Brace for the g's, and fast heel-toe work.

Raoul Duke

Chris "Oz" Ostreicher: You gotta ask them questions, and listen to what they have to say and shit.
Steve Stifler: I dunno, man, that sounds like a lot of work.

Mrs. Dashwood: Why so grave? You disapprove her choice?
Marianne: By no means. Edward is very amiable.
Mrs. Dashwood: Amiable? But?
Marianne: There is something wanting. He's too sedate. His reading last night...
Mrs. Dashwood: Elinor has not your feelings. His reserve suits her.

Carl Showalter: So, why don't you just ask him for the money?
Gaer Grimsrud: Or your fuckin' wife, you know.
Carl Showalter: Or your fucking wife, Jerry?

I love weed. LOVE IT. Probably always will! But not as much as I love pussy! The end.

Thurgood Jenkins

Fletcher: Is this guy right for you? I mean, he's just so, not me!
Audrey: Yes, that's one of his best qualities.
Fletcher: Yeah, but he's kind of, magoo... I'm sorry.
Audrey: You're wrong! I mean, sometimes, maybe yes, he is a litte bit...
Fletcher: Magoo!
Audrey: Yes.

Hell of a damn grave. Wish it were mine.


FREE Movie Newsletter