Ford Fairlane: 1969 Fender Stratocaster, original pick-ups, maple neck, strung upside down for a left-handed motherfucking genius, Jimi Hendrix.
Chucky: You little shit. Do you realise what you've done? It's too late. I've spent to much time in this body. I'm fucking trapped in here!
Tim Daland: I had sponsors in from all over the coast and I'm hugging, and holding hands, and praying for a good showin'. And what do we do? We end up looking like a monkey fucking a football out there. Everybody out, please.
Frank White: From now on, nothing goes down unless I'm involved. No blackjack no dope deals, no nothing. A nickel bag gets sold in the park, I want in. You guys got fat while everybody starved on the street. Now it's my turn.
Judge Bristol: ...and there be hanged by the neck till he be dead, dead, dead. Now, do you have anything to say, young man?
William H. Bonney: Yes I do, your Honor. You can go to hell, hell, hell.
Gen. Esperanza: Freedom.
[John McClane appears and punches him in the face.]
John McClane: Not yet.
Michelangelo: God, I love BEING A TURTLE.
Dick Tracy: Is the enemy of my enemy my friend, or the enemy of my friend my enemy?
Pat Patton: What?
Dick Tracy: Or enemy of my enemy my enemy?
Pat Patton: What'd he say?
Dick Tracy: The enemy of my enemy is my enemy.
Sam Catchem: He said the enemy of his enemy is his enemy.
Pat Patton: Oh.
Sgt. Virgil Hoogesteger: I know exactly what I'm gonna do.
Richard Rascal Moore: Oh God, Virg, if I have to hear one more word about that stupid restaurant.
Sgt. Virgil Hoogesteger: It's not stupid! At least I've got a plan! What are you gonna do after the war, huh?
Richard Rascal Moore: Come to your restaurant and rob it.
Screwface: Everybody want go heaven. Nobody want dead. Afraid.