Quotes from Samuel L. Jackson movies and TV shows - page 6 of 8

George Washington Williams: You, are Tarzan. Lord of the apes, King of the jungle. "Me, Tarzan. You, Jane."

Special Agent Derrick Vann: I'm gonna check the front of my car. If it smells like ass, I'm gonna beat you like a runaway slave.

Andy Fidler: I just think we should be cooperating if I'm going to be your partner.
Special Agent Derrick Vann: You are not my partner.
Andy Fidler: Really? Then what am I?
Special Agent Derrick Vann: You're my bitch. My own personal bitch. When I pull the strings, you dance. Till then, you sit there, keep your mouth shut, and don't say a word... like the puppet you are.

Andy Fidler: I haven't met anyone that I didn't become friends with... eventually.
Special Agent Derrick Vann: Really? Because I haven't met anyone who's ass I didn't kick... eventually.

Special Agent Derrick Vann: You know how I can tell you're lyin'? I can smell the bullshit coming out of your mouth.

Lieutenant Danny Roman: A quick lesson in lying. See, this is what us real cops do: We study liars. Example: If I ask you a question about something visual, like your favorite color, your eyes go up and to the left. Neurophysiology tells us your eyes go in that direction, because you're accessing the visual cortex. So you're telling the truth. If your eyes go up and right, you're accessing the brain's creative centers and we know you're full of shit.

Lieutenant Danny Roman: You working?
Lieutenant Chris Sabian: Sort of. I was negotiating a truce between my wife and daughter.
Lieutenant Danny Roman: Then I'm proved to be easy by comparison.
Lieutenant Chris Sabian: It wouldn't surprise me in the least.

Lieutenant Danny Roman: You want my blood? Take my blood.

Lieutenant Danny Roman: I'm still alive, motherfucker.

Lieutenant Danny Roman: When your friends betray you, sometimes the only people you can trust are strangers.

Chaney: I swear, I don't know nothin'! I swear before God and eight motherfuckin' white people.

Chaney: Shit, you might wanna think about what you're doing here.
Joe Doucett: I've been thinking about it for the last 20 years.

P.K. Highsmith: Ay, ay, ay! You shut your face! If I wanna hear you talk, I'll shove my arm up your ass and work your mouth like a puppet! You hear me? You hear me?!

P.K. Highsmith: Did someone call 9-1-holy shit!

Jimbo: What the mother father cocker spaniel's going on here?

Moody: No more fucking birthdays. Shove birthdays up your ass.

Moody: Our Past is never where we left it, we all have scars. If you stare at them long enough you will remember how you got them.

Jules Winnfield: Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyrannies of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For he is truly his brothers' keeper and finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.' Now I've been saying that shit for years, and if you've ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never gave much thought to what it meant, I just thought it was a cold blooded thing to say to a mother fucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this morning that made me think twice. Now I'm thinking it could mean you're the evil man, and I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here is the shepherd, protecting my righteous ass. Or maybe it means that you're the righteous man, and I'm the shepherd, and it's the world that's evil and selfish. Now I'd like that, but you see that shit ain't the truth. The truth is, YOU'RE the weak, and I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm trying, Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd.

Jules Winnfield: What does Marcellus Wallace look like?
Brett: What?
Jules Winnfield: What country you from?
Brett: What?
Jules Winnfield: What ain't no country I ever heard of. They speak English in What?
Brett: What?
Jules Winnfield: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO-YOU-SPEAK-IT?
Brett: Yes.
Jules Winnfield: Then you know what I'm saying.
Brett: Yes.
Jules Winnfield: Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like.
Brett: What, I-?
Jules Winnfield: [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 Winnfield: Go on.
Brett: He's bald.
Jules Winnfield: Does he look like a bitch?
Brett: What?
[Jules shoots Brett in shoulder.]
Jules Winnfield: DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Brett: No.
Jules Winnfield: Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch, Brett?
Brett: I didn't.
Jules Winnfield: Yes you did. Yes you did, Brett. You tried to fuck him. And Marcellus Wallace don't like to be fuuced by anybody, except Mrs. Wallace.

Jules: Normally, both your asses would be dead as fucking fried chicken, but you happen to pull this shit while I'm in a transitional period so I don't wanna kill you, I wanna help you. But I can't give you this case, it don't belong to me. Besides, I've already been through too much shit this morning over this case to hand it over to your dumb ass.