Veronica Guerin: You'd do the same. If you saw those kids on the street, you would do the same.
Sam Drebben: Another day, another dollar.
Desi Arnaz: I work hard, I play hard, I drink hard and I love hard.
Eva Braun: Now why is it, Herr Hitler, that no photographer has ever been able to capture the incredible magnetism of your eyes?
El Presidente: Who are you guys?
El Mariachi: Sons of Mexico, sir.
Roy: Fourteen! You're fourteen! When'd you have time to get arrested?
Toby Radloff: You might want to try believing in something bigger than yourself. It might cheer you up.
Les Gault: What'd you do that for?
Joe Taylor: I had no use for it.
Les Gault: Must be worth something, though.
Joe Taylor: Not to me.
Alicia: Guys, check out this book. Looks pretty old, maybe it'll help us.
Colonel Blount: Don't think me discourteous, but I'm afraid it's impossible for me to ask you to luncheon. I have a guest coming on intimate family business. It's some young rascal who wants to marry my daughter.
Adam Fenwick-Symes: Well, I want to marry your daughter too.
Colonel Blount: What an extraordinary thing. Are you sure?
Psychologist: You know, some folks believe everyone has a public life, a private life, and a secret life. What do you think about that?
Dan Mahowny: The thing is, I guess... that my secret life... is a bit less secret than everyone else's right now.
Evelyn: I think everyone should see themselves doing it and their friends should see it too.
Nick Callahan: If I could live this life again, I would never leave you for a second.
Phil Kaufman: What the hell are you doing?
Larry Oster-Berg: The steering lock is on.
Phil Kaufman: Well, turn it off.
Larry Oster-Berg: I can't. He's got the key.
Phil Kaufman: So we can escape, but we can only drive in a circle.
Larry Oster-Berg: Yes.
Katherine Watson: You can confirm to what other people expect of you, or.
Betty Warren: I know. Be ourselves.
Julia Cook: Don't make me grieve for you.
Ned Kelly: I ain't dead yet.
Natalie: I thought shit like that only happened in the movies.
Vermeer: Look at me. Now, turn your head. Not your shoulders. Look at me. There. That's it.
Sylvia: Sometimes I dream the tree, and the tree is my life. One branch is the man I shall marry, and the leaves my children. Another branch is my future as a writer, and each leaf is a poem. Another branch is a good academic career. But as I sit there trying to choose, the leaves bring to turn brown and blow away, until the tree is absolutely bare.