Jeremy Grey: Wow. Mr. Environmental is also a hunter. That's an interesting combination.
Sack Lodge: I hunt quail, Jeremy. They're overpopulated in this region and they're decimating the grubworm population. You got a fucking problem with that?
Jeremy Grey: Not as much as I do with your attire, or just your general point of view toward everybody here. But hey, lets go kill some birds. I'm psyched.

Yeah, thanks. Took the restrictor plate off to give the Red Dragon a little more juice. But it's not exactly street legal, so keep it on the down low.


Regina: Oh my God, I love your skirt! Where did you get it?
Lea Edwards: It was my mom's in the '80s.
Regina: Vintage, so adorable.
Lea Edwards: Thanks!
Regina: That is the ugliest f-ing skirt I've ever seen.

Rick Vaughn: What's that shit on your chest?
Eddie Harris: Crisco? Bardol? Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. Of course if the umps are watching me real close I'll rub a little jalapeño up my nose, get it running, and if I need to load the ball up I just... wipe my nose.

Tommy: Hmmm. He seems like a nice guy.
Richard Hayden: This is the guy trying to buy the company, not to mention put you out on the street, and all you can say is, "Hmmm, he seems like a nice guy!"

Jacob: "Holy shit-- you're wasted!"
Adam: "I've had, like, two wine kills, Captain Buzzcooler."

Officer Michaels: How old are you McLovin?
Fogell: Old enough.
Officer Michaels: Old enough for what?
Fogell: To party.

Phil: I've been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned.
Rita: Oh, really?
Phil: ...and every morning I wake up without a scratch on me, not a dent in the fender... I am an immortal.

Ricky Bobby: (Thinking he is paralyzed) I hope you have sons! Handsome, beautiful, articulate sons who are talented, and star athletes, and they have their legs taken away! I want you to know that pain!
Lucius: Don't you put that evil on me, Ricky Bobby! Don't you put that on us! You are not paralyzed!

cheerleader: You better bring it.
Priscilla: Oh, it's already been brought-en.

God needs the Devil. The Beatles needed The Rolling Stones. Even Diane Sawyer needed Katie Couric. Will you be my Katie Couric?

Jean Girard

[As Annie's teeth is blackened by what she is eating, looking like she is missing teeth]
Annie: I don't need dental work.
Lillian: You are right.
Annie: There is nothing wrong with my teeth.
Lillian: You are so beautiful. Will you marry me?
Annie: Yessss

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