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!
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.
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.
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.
Casey Jones: This is great. First it was The Farm That Time Forgot and now this. Why don't I ever fall in with people who own condos? Probably hard to get good maid service in a sewer. Maybe you guys should try Roto Rooter, huh?
Gen. Esperanza: Freedom.
[John McClane appears and punches him in the face.]
John McClane: Not yet.
Mason Storm: So, how come you're not watching the Oscars tonight?
Counterman: The Oscars?
Mason Storm: Yeah, the Oscars.
Counterman: I hate the Oscars.
Mason Storm: You're not having a good time, huh?
Counterman: I mean, who needs the goddamn movies anyway? I got a show in here every single night.
Mason Storm: Yeah?
Counterman: You've got horror, sex, freaks, violence. I don't got to pay no four bucks either.
Screwface: Everybody want go heaven. Nobody want dead. Afraid.
Dick Tracy: No grief for Lips?
Breathless Mahoney: I'm wearing black underwear.
Dick Tracy: You know, it's legal for me to take you down to the station and sweat it out of you under the lights.
Breathless Mahoney: I sweat a lot better in the dark.