Jules Winnfield: Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyrannies of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For he is truly his brothers' keeper and finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.' Now I've been saying that shit for years, and if you've ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never gave much thought to what it meant, I just thought it was a cold blooded thing to say to a mother fucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this morning that made me think twice. Now I'm thinking it could mean you're the evil man, and I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here is the shepherd, protecting my righteous ass. Or maybe it means that you're the righteous man, and I'm the shepherd, and it's the world that's evil and selfish. Now I'd like that, but you see that shit ain't the truth. The truth is, YOU'RE the weak, and I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm trying, Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd.
Forrest Gump: I may not be a smart man, but I know what love is.
Red: There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? It's just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your form, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.
One Stab: Tristan died in 1963. The moon of the popping trees. He was last seen up in the North Country, where the hunting was still good. His grave is unmarked, but it does not matter. He had always lived in the borderland anyway, somewhere between this world and the Other.
Lyric: Jason, I am trying to love you, but I don't want my heart broken. But that's exactly what you're gonna do if you keep trying to save a brother that don't want to be saved.
Will Randall: What do you do?
Laura: Why do you care?
Will Randall: I don't. I was just making polite conversation.
Laura: I'd rather not discuss what I do.
Will Randall: You know, I think I understand what you're like now. You're very beautiful and you think men are only interested in you because you're beautiful, but you want them to be interested in you because you're you. The problem is, aside from all that beauty, you're not very interesting. You're rude, you're hostile, you're sullen, you're withdrawn. I know you want someone to look past all that at the real person underneath but the only reason anyone would bother to look past all that is because you're beautful. Ironic, isn't it? In an odd way you're your own problem.
The Creature: I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
Robert Englund: I think they'd like to see us together again.
Heather Lagenkamp: In what? A romantic-comedy?
Robert Englund: Just because it's a love story doesn't mean it can't have a decapitation or two.
Mother Abigail: "Once in every generation, the plague shall fall among them." That's what is says in the book... Seems you might have went a little far this time.
Birdie: Check this out. You ain't goin to college or any fuckin where if the Bird Man don't win. You might be on the other team, but you playin for ME. Remember that.
Fiona: There's a sort of greatness to your lateness.
Charles: Thanks, it's not achieved without real suffering.
Pumbaa: Hey, Timon, ever wonder what those sparkly dots are up there?
Timon: Pumbaa, I don't wonder; I know.
Pumbaa: Oh. What are they?
Timon: They're fireflies. Fireflies that, uh... Got stuck up on that big bluish-black thing.
Pumbaa: Oh, gee. I always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away.
Timon: Pumbaa, with you, everything's gas.
Nicholas Earp: Remember this, all of you. Nothing counts so much as blood. The rest are just strangers. (00:11:02)
Mario Ruoppolo: Your smile spreads like a butterfly.
The Judge: Deciding what is true and what isn't now seems to me...a lack of modesty.
Valentine: Vanity?
The Judge: Vanity.
Kellie Frost: I don't like Bull Riders... They're little men with big egos. Besides, he's got one of them skinny butts like the rest of em'.
Kelly's Mom: Honey, I judge a man more by the size of his heart then his rear... It's likely to do you more good.
Carol: Oh, I guess we should stop, 'cause Harold has to pee.
Rudy Travis: Get back in the front. Get back up there with Harold! Get up there.
Harold Carvey, DVM: I don't want to play... this game... anymore.
Rudy Travis: You pee in your pants.
Warren: When will you get it into your head that one can produce a copious, regular and exquisitely turned evacuation every day of the week and still be a stranger to reason.