Terence Mann: Ray, people will come Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. It's only $20 per person. They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... People will come Ray. People will most definitely come.
Judge Wexler: The Scolari brothers.
Ray: Friends of yours?
Judge Wexler: I tried them for murder. Gave them the chair. You gotta do something.
Egon: Why don't you just tell them you don't believe in ghosts?
Maurice: Hey, dude. Come here bud. You don't know it yet, but tonight is your lucky night.
Brian Stevenson: What do you mean?
Maurice: I mean.
Brian Stevenson: I know, you're going to grant me three wishes, right?
Maurice: Wishes? Wishes? Wishes are bush-league leprechaun, pal. I'm a monster, okay. Listen to this. I'm a monster and monsters don't do wishes.
Brian Stevenson: Then what do monsters do?
Maurice: Good question. I have the time of my life.
Sebastian: Are you sure about this?
Scuttle: Have I ever been wrong? I mean when it's important.
Louis Creed: My father used to have a saying, Jud. God sees the truth... But waits.
Mae Thompson: How did this happen?
Russell 'Russ' Thompson, Sr.: Let me handle this. How did this happen?
Freddy Krueger: It's a boy.
Rhet: A roger, a love wand, joy stick, dong, zipper lizard, tally whacker, trouser snake, schlong.
King Arnulf: Now, I want you to be absolutely, totally, genuinely honest with me. Did you really, truly, honesty like it?
Erik: ...No.
King Arnulf: They didn't like it! Oh my God! I want to die.
Denis Dimbleby Bagley: My grandfather was caught molesting a wallaby in a private zoo in 1919.
Psychiatrist: A wallaby?
Denis Dimbleby Bagley: It may have been a kangaroo. I'm not sure.
Psychiatrist: You mean sexually?
Denis Dimbleby Bagley: I suppose so. He had his hand in its pouch.
Pastor: Can I ask what your interest is in finding such a book?
Giles Redferne: Our interest lies in stopping those who would see all good falter. It lies in stopping the powers of misrule from coming of age. It lies in finding that damned book, and thwarting a vile beast of a man who shall not rest until God himself is thrown down, and all of creation becomes Satan's black hell-besmeared farting hole.
Kassandra: You asked.
Pete Sandich: There's something fishy going on here, and I don't think it's the chicken.
Arnie Fromson: You can't do this. You can't abuse yourself.
John Belushi: Look, I don't pay you to be my best friend. I don't ask you what you do after six o'clock, don't ASK ME! nobody tells ME what to DO.
Arnie Fromson: You can't tell me what to do with you either. I'm not talking about business now, John. I'm talking about your life.