Frenchy's Lawyer: You've lost it all, Frenchy. Or should I say, you've been swindled out of it all.
Frenchy: You mean I got...?
Frenchy's Lawyer: Nothing, Mrs. Winkler. You have nothing. No... no house, no bank account, just a couple of large, outstanding loans which we feel you can best deal with by filing for bankruptcy.
Frenchy: Bankruptcy? Bankruptcy? I'm not up to the B-words yet.
Gangster 55: And you, Mr. Freddie Mays, you had to go swimming in her eyes. Dancing in her hair. You had to slip into her mouth, slide over her tongue. Fall down her throat, deep down into her belly. Right into her blood. You had to fall asleep wrapped around her beautiful, beating heart.
Greg Weinstein: I hope this is better than the last batch of shit you gave me. Produced more wood than Ron Jeremy. I don't want you to yell, "Reco!" anymore. Know what you should yell?"Timber!" Yeah, Mr. Fuckin' wood. I hear you fuckin' makin' your calls. It's bullshit, all right? I mean if you want them off the phone so bad, why don't you just hang up? You should get them excited. You know, excited? They should beg for a broker on the first call.
Max Kerkerian: Supercop scared of a little pooch? Son of a bitch.
Turkish: We've lost gorgeous George
Brick top: Well where'd you lose him? He ain't a set of fucking car keys is he?
Harvey: Where are you going?
Mickey: To a place called "None of Your Business."
Pinhead: It's all a puzzle, isn't it, Joseph? Like a game of chess, perhaps. The pieces move, apparently aimlessly, but always towards one single objective: to kill the king. But who is the king in this game, Joseph? That is the question you must ask yourself.
Wesley: This stuff's nuttier than my shit after I've eaten an Almond Roca.
Jack Carter: You should finish what you start.
Cyrus Paice: Yeah, shit I think you should fix your tie there.
Captain Victor Benezet: Go home. Put on a funny hat. Do whatever it is morons do.
Cecil: There are no rules in underground cinema, only edges.