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!
Yes, children, this is the cool-out corner. We're slowing it down for all the lovers in the house. I'll be giving you all the help you need. Musically, that is.Mister Senor Love Daddy
Buggin' Out: You almost knocked me down, man. the word is "excuse me."
Clifton: Ah, excuse me, I'm sorry.
Buggin' Out: Not only did ya knock me down, you stepped on my brand-new white Air Jordan's I just bought, and that's all you can say is "excuse me"?
Clifton: What, are you serious?
Buggin' Out: Yeah, I'm serious, I'll fuck you up quick two times.
Punchy: Two times.
Buggin' Out: Who told you to step on my sneakers, who told you to walk on my side of the block, who told you to be in my neighborhood?
Clifton: I own this brownstone.
Buggin' Out: Who told you to buy a brownstone on my block, in my neighborhood, on my side of the street? Yo, what you wanna live in a Black neighborhood for, anyway? Man, motherfuck gentrification.
Mother Sister: Hey, you old drunk, what did I tell you about drinking in front of my stoop? Move on; you're blocking my view. You are ugly enough; don't stare at me. The evil eye doesn't work on me.
Da Mayor: Mother Sister, you've been talkin' about me for 18 years. What have I ever done to you?
Mother Sister: You a drunk fool.
Da Mayor: Besides that? Da Mayor don't bother nobody and nobody no bother da Mayor but you. The Man just tends to his own business. I love everybody; I even love you.
Mother Sister: Hold your tongue: you don't have that much love.
Da Mayor: One day you're gonna be nice to me. We may both be dead and buried, but you're gonna be nice - at least civil.
Sal: Pino, get a broom and sweep out front.
Pino: Vito, get a broom and sweep out front.
Pino: Get a broom and sweep out front.
Pino: GET A BROOM AND SWEEP OUT FRONT.
Vito: See, Pop, it's just what I was telling ya. Every time you tell Pino what to do, he tells me to do what you told him what to do.
I detest this place like a sickness.Pino
Radio Raheem: Give me 20 D Energizers.
Sonny: 20 C Energizers?
Radio Raheem: Not C, D.
Sonny: C Energizers?
Radio Raheem: D, motherfucker, D. Learn to speak English first, all right?
Kim: How many you say?
Radio Raheem: 20, motherfucker, 20.
Sonny: Motherfuck you.
Radio Raheem: Motherfuck you? You, you all right, man.
Hey. The only ass-kicking that's gonna be done around here is gonna be done by me.Sal
Buggin' Out: Yo, Sal, we're gonna boycott your fat pasta ass.
Sal: You're gonna boycott me? You haven't got the *balls* to boycott me. Here, here's your boycott, up your ass. You've got a boycott.
Trust you? The last time I trusted you, Mookie, I ended up with a son.Tina
Da Mayor: Doctor...
Mookie: C'mon, what. What?
Da Mayor: Always do the right thing.
Mookie: That's it?
Da Mayor: That's it.
Mookie: I got it, I'm gone.
Radio Raheem: Let me tell you the story of Right Hand, Left Hand. It's a tale of good and evil. Hate: it was with this hand that Cane iced his brother. Love: these five fingers, they go straight to the soul of man. The right hand: the hand of love. The story of life is this: static. One hand is always fighting the other hand, and the left hand is kicking much ass. I mean, it looks like the right hand, Love, is finished. But hold on, stop the presses, the right hand is coming back. Yeah, he got the left hand on the ropes, now, that's right. Ooh, it's a devastating right and Hate is hurt, he's down. Left-Hand Hate KOed by Love.