Meowth: There they go. All we gotta do is follow them on top of them rooftops.
James: Well, I used to be quite a good gymnast.
Jessie: This is our big chance, I could almost taste it! Are you ready?
James: Yeah.
Conspiracy Brother: Jesus Christ: black man. Babe Ruth: black man. Madonna: ... slept with black men.
Angus Tuck: Don't be afraid of death Winnie, be afraid of the unlived life.
Doctor Doppler: Just wait until we tell your mother about this! Of course, we may downplay the life-threatning parts.
Reed Thimple: Do you like the sound of crunching wood? I do.
Catherine: Suzon, I forgot one thing. I heard a strange sound. I looked through Augustine's keyhole, and I saw her standing at the mirror with something shiny. I thought nothing of it, but now I'm sure she was sharpening a knife.
Augustine: You liar! I was holding my mother-of-pearl comb and cleaning it.
Gaby: At 3:00 am?
Augustine: Combs never sleep.
Jerome Davenport: "Regard without ill-will despite an offense." That's Webster's definition of forgiveness.
Antwone Fisher: Why do I have to forgive?
Jerome Davenport: So you can get on with your life.
Valerie Gipson: Whatever drama you've gotten yourself into, it's just the kind of thing that always happens to you. And it never happens to me unless I am in your field of gravity.
Jake: Just how I like 'em... all big and big-like.
Mr. Crummles: Happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes.
Connor: I don't know what it is she's afraid of. It's like she always thinks the bottom will drop out.
Vivi: I think you know why she thinks that, don't you, honey? Because it did. It always did.
Diego Rivera: Thank you.
Frida Kahlo: For what?
Diego Rivera: For making a fat, old, crazy Communist a happy man.
Sam: What thousands must die, so that Caesar may become the great.
Rain: She bit me man! I mean she took a chunk clean right out of me!
Billy Flynn: Now look, I don't like to blow my own horn. But believe me. If Jesus Christ lived in Chicago today and if he had $5,000 and he'd come to me, things would have turned out differently.
William Hundert: Sir, it's my job to mold your son, and I think if.
Senator Bell: Mold him? Jesus God in Heaven, son. You're not gonna mold my boy. Your job is to teach my son. You teach him his times tables. Teach him why the world is round. Teach him who killed who and when and where. That is your job. You, sir, will not mold my son. I will mold him.
Emery: Where are Nick and Cathy, they should've been back by now. Why'd she have to go off on her own, anyway? That was extremely stupid.
Dr. Ben Sobel: I am grieving. It's a process.