In the scene where Blank goes into the DJ booth to talk to his high school girlfriend, every time the camera goes back and forth to her, her necklace is twisted and then untwisted. See more...
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Debi: I should have worn a skirt.
Marty: I should have brought my gun.
Debi: What was that?
Marty: Should be fun!
Marty: I'm sorry if I fucked up your life.
Debi: It's not over yet.
Ken McCullard: I do divorce mainly, some property, some personal injury.
Marty: They all seem kinda related.
Waitress: What do you want in your omelette, sir?
Marty: Nothing in the omelette, nothing at all.
Waitress: Well, that's not technically an omelette.
Marty: Look, I don't want to get into a semantic argument, I just want the protein.
Victim: Whatever I'm doing you don't like... I'll stop doing it.
Marty: It's not me.
Martin Q. Blank: Dr. Oatman, please pick up, pick up! It's Martin Blank! I, I'm standing where my, uh, living room was and it's not here because my house is gone and it's an Ultimart! You can never go home again, Oatman... but I guess you can shop there.
Debi: So, is there a Mrs. Mysterio?
Martin Blank: No, but I do have a very nice cat?
Debi: Not the same.
Martin Blank: Well, you don't know my cat, it's very demanding.
Debi: It? You don't know if it's a boy or girl?
Martin Blank: I respect its privacy.
Debi: Some people say forgive and forget. Nah, I don't know. I say forget about forgiving and just accept. And... get the hell out of town.
Marty: They all have husbands and wives and children and houses and dogs, and, you know, they've all made themselves a part of something and they can talk about what they do. What am I gonna say? "I killed the president of Paraguay with a fork. How've you been?"
Marcella: You know, when you started getting invited to your ten year high school reunion, time is catching up.
Martin Q. Blank: Are you talking about a sense of my own mortality or a fear of death?
Marcella: Well, I never really thought about it quite like that.
Martin Q. Blank: Did you go to yours?
Marcella: Yes, I did. It was just as if everyone had swelled.
Marty: Debi's house.
Paul: Kinda crept up on you, didn't it?
Marty: No, you drove us here.
Martin Blank: If I show up at your door, chances are you did something to bring me there.
Debi Newberry: You're a psychopath.
Martin Blank: No, no. Psychopaths kill for no reason. I kill for money. It's a job... That didn't come out right.