Cynthia Hawkins: Do you steal the dresses of all singers?
Jules: No, no.
Cynthia Hawkins: So, I'M the lucky one! I have a fan?
Jules: I heard you in Bordeaux. And last year I went to Munich specially for the concert.
Cynthia Hawkins: You made the trip for me?
Jules: Yes, on the moped.
Cynthia Hawkins: On the moped. So, you ARE a real fan.
Garth Algar: Uhm, Wayne? What do you do if every time you see this one incredible woman, you think you're gonna hurl?
Wayne Campbell: I say hurl. If you blow chunks and she comes back, she's yours. But if you spew and she bolts, then it was never meant to be.
Honey HorneƩ: Take me, Garth!
Garth Algar: Where? I'm low on gas and you need a jacket.
Honey HorneƩ: I'm gonna be frank.
Garth Algar: OK. Can I still be Garth?
Kevin: I am not your slave.
Jennifer North: The sanitarium was very expensive.
Riff Randell: Tom Roberts is so boring his brother is an only child.
Captain Mack: Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude of 33 thousand feet... 33 thousand feet? Oh shit, man! We fuckin' higher than Redman at the Source Awards.
Record Company Executive: Your fans are gospel folk, Johnny. They're Christians, and they don't wanna hear you singing to a bunch of murderers and rapists, tryin' to cheer 'em up.
Johnny Cash: Then they ain't Christians.
Frances: Blind Dog and Lightning Boy? Who the hell are you guys supposed to be?
Eugene Martone: We're bluesmen.
Willie Brown: I'm the bluesman, he's from Long Island.
Patsy Cline: I can't stand it. Makes me want to scream and claw my face.
Dewey Cox: Edith, I am starting to think... that maybe you don't believe in me.
Edith: I do believe in you. I just know you're gonna fail.
American journalist: If you were to give advice to a woman, what would it be?
Edith Piaf: Love.
American journalist: To a young girl?
Edith Piaf: Love.
American journalist: To a child?
Edith Piaf: Love.