Christopher Lloyd (back to the C list / L list)

Doc: Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads.

Doc Brown: Now, if my calculations are correct, when this baby hits eighty-eight miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit.

Marty: Doc look, all we need is a little plutonium!

Doc: Oh! I'm sure that in 1985, plutonium is available at every corner drug store, but in 1955 it's a little hard to come by. Marty, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you're stuck here.

Doc: The only power source capable of generating 1.21 gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning.

Marty: What?

Doc: A bolt of lightning! Unfortunately, you never know when or where it's ever going to strike!

[Marty holds out the "Save the Clock Tower" flyer]

Marty: We do now.

Doc: Next Saturday night, we're sending you Back to the Future!

Marty: Jeez, Doc. You disintegrated Einstein!

Doc: Don't worry, Marty. Einstein is perfectly fine.

Marty: Well then where the hell is he?

Doc: I think the appropriate term is WHEN the hell is he.

Dr. Emmett Brown: No wonder your president has to be an actor, he's gotta look good on television.

Marty McFly: Wait a minute, Doc. Ah... Are you telling me that you built a time machine... out of a DeLorean?

Dr. Emmett Brown: The way I see it, if you're gonna build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?

Marty McFly: Wait a minute, Doc, are you trying to tell me that my mother has got the hots for me?

Dr. Emmett Brown: Precisely.

Marty McFly: Whoa, this is heavy.

Dr. Emmett Brown: There's that word again; "heavy". Why are things so heavy in the future? Is there a problem with the earth's gravitational pull?

Dr. Emmett Brown: Don't worry. As long as you hit that wire with the connecting hook at precisely 88mph the instant the lightning strikes the tower... everything will be fine.

Marty: That's right, Doc. November 12, 1955.

Doc: Unbelievable, that old Biff could have chosen that particular date. It could mean that that point in time inherently contains some sort of cosmic significance. Almost as if it were the junction point for the entire space-time continuum. On the other hand, it could just be an amazing coincidence.

Marty: You're not going to believe this. We have to go back to 1955.

Doc: I don't believe it!

Doc: The time-traveling is just too dangerous. Better that I devote myself to study the other great mystery of the universe...women!

Doc: Marty! What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton happened here?

Marty: I don't get it, Doc. I mean, how can all this be happening? It's like we're in Hell or something.

Doc: No, it's Hill Valley. Although I can't imagine Hell being much worse!

Doc: Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads.

Doc: Marty, you're not thinking fourth-dimensionally!

Marty: Yeah, right, I have a real problem with that.

Doc: This'll shoot the fleas off a dog's back at 500 yards, Tannen! And it's pointed straight at your head!

Jennifer: Excuse me, Doc Brown. I brought this message back from the future and, well, now it's erased.

Doc: Of course it's erased.

Jennifer: But what does that mean?

Doc: It means your futures haven't been written yet. No one's has. So make it a good one, the both of you.

Engineer: Is this a holdup?

Doc: It's a science experiment!

Doc: Clara was one in a million. One in a billion. One in a googolplex!

Doc: Marty, I gave you explicit instructions not to come here but to go directly back to 1985.

Marty McFly: I know, Doc. But I had to come.

Doc: But it's good to see ya, Marty.

Marty McFly: Hey, Doc! Where you goin' now? Back to the future?

Doc: Nope. Already been there.

Marty McFly: Great Scott!

Doc: I know, this is heavy.

Doc: Marty, you're going to have to do something about those clothes. You walk around town dressed like that, you're liable to get shot.

Marty McFly: Or hanged.

Doc: What idiot dressed you in that outfit?

Marty McFly: You did.

Doc: And in the future, we don't need horses. We have motorized carriages called automobiles.

Saloon Old Timer: If everybody's got one of these auto-whatsits, does anybody walk or run anymore?

Doc: Of course we run. But for recreation. For fun.

Saloon Old Timer: Run for fun? What the hell kind of fun is that?

Mr. Goodman: The piranha hunt in packs. The first bite draws blood, blood draws the pack.