Popular Pulp Fiction Quotes
Three tomatoes are walking down the street- a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind. Poppa tomato gets angry, goes over to the baby tomato, and smooshes him... and says, Catch up.Mia
Jules: Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal. I ain't eat nothin' that ain't got enough sense enough to disregard its own faeces.
Vincent: How about a dog? Dogs eats its own feces.
Jules: I don't eat dog either.
Vincent: Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?
Jules: I wouldn't go so far as to call a dog filthy but they're definitely dirty. But, a dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way.
Vincent: Ah, so by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?
Jules: Well we'd have to be talkin' about one charmin' motherfuckin' pig. I mean he'd have to be ten times more charmin' than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I'm sayin'?
Jules: Nobody's gonna hurt anybody. We're gonna be like three little Fonzies here. And what's Fonzie like? Come on Yolanda what's Fonzie like?
Yolanda: He's cool.
Jules: Correctamundo. And that's what we're gonna be. We're gonna be cool. Now Ringo, I'm gonna count to three, and when I count three, you let go of your gun, and sit your ass down. But when you do it, you do it cool. Ready? One... two... three.
Jules: What does Marcellus Wallace look like?
Jules: What country you from?
Jules: What ain't no country I ever heard of! They speak English in What?
Jules: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO-YOU-SPEAK-IT?
Jules: Then you know what I'm saying!
Jules: Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!
Brett: What, I-?
Jules: [pointing his gun] Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you, motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.
Brett: He's b-b-black...
Jules: Go on.
Brett: He's bald...
Jules: Does he look like a bitch?
[Jules shoots Brett in shoulder]
Jules: DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Jules: Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch, Brett?
Brett: I didn't.
Jules: Yes you did. Yes you did, Brett. You tried to fuck him. And Marcellus Wallace don't like to be fucked by anybody, except Mrs. Wallace.
Butch: I'll be back before you can say Blueberry pie.
Fabienne: Blueberry pie.
Butch: OK, maybe not that fast...
Butch: Starin' at something, friend?
Vincent: I ain't your friend, palooka.
Butch: What did you say?
Vincent: I think you heard me just fine, punchy.
Jules: I don't wanna hear about no motherfuckin' ifs. All I wanna hear from your ass is, You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the calvary which should be coming directly.
Marsellus: You ain't got no problem, Jules. I'm on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.
Jules: You sendin' the Wolf?
Marsellus: Oh, you feel better, motherfucker?
Jules: [relieved] Shit, Negro, that's all you had to say!
Jules: Mmmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This is some serious gourmet shit! Usually, me and Vince would be happy with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice, but he springs this serious GOURMET shit on us! What flavor is this?
Jimmie: Knock it off, Jules.
Jules: [pause] What?
Jimmie: I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping she buys SHIT. Me, I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it I want to taste it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It AIN'T the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.
The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride fucking with you. Fuck pride. Pride only hurts, it never helps.Marsellus
That's thirty minutes away. I'll be there in ten.The Wolf
Esmeralda: What is your name?
Esmeralda: What does it mean?
Butch: I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean shit.
Marsellus: In the fifth, your ass goes down. Say it.
Butch: In the fifth, my ass goes down.