Check-Out Woman: Are you here all by yourself?
Kevin McCallister: Ma'am, I'm eight years old. You think I would be here *alone*? I don't think so.
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. Your future is what ever you make. So make it a good one, the both of you.
Vivian: Oh...Look honey, I have a runner in my pantyhose. Oops! I'm not wearing panty hose!
Woman at elevator: Shut your mouth, dear.
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!
Grandpa Fred: They put me on at 3am. People who are awake at 3am aren't afraid of the Wolfman. The only thing that frightens those people is sobering up and going to work.
Henry Hill: What happened?
Jimmy Conway: They whacked him. They fucking whacked him. I can't fucking believe it.
Ford Fairlane: 1969 Fender Stratocaster, original pick-ups, maple neck, strung upside down for a left-handed motherfucking genius, Jimi Hendrix.
Sylvia: Edward is a wonderful person, but something keeps me from saying yes.
Vera Bennington: Would that something happen to be a tall architecht?