Aimo: Have a Merry Christmas. And a happy bloody New Year.
Liz Gilbert: I'm sick of people telling me that I need a man.
Felipe: You don't need a man, Liz. You need a champion.
Narrator: Space stretches into infinity. Countless stars die as others are born. And thus, space is alive.
Ma-Ti: You're a fool, Critic! A damn fool! You cannot change your destiny! You can only choose to meet it... and you will fail.
Becca: Why didn't He just make one, if He needed another Angel? He is God, after all.
Lucien Ginsburg: When I go out, it's to meet up with women. How else do think I was able to draw cunt hair?
Kathy: It had never occurred to me that our lives, which had been so closely interwoven, could unravel with such speed. If I'd known, maybe I'd have kept tighter hold of them and not let unseen tides pull us apart.
Granny Goodness: Surrender, Amazon.
Wonder Woman: Barda.
Gilotina: Surrender now, or the bitch dies.
Big Barda: No, Diana, let them kill me. Never surrender.
Granny Goodness: Imagine how pleased Darkseid will be. Why settle for some girl who fell to Earth when I can deliver to him the champion of the Amazons.
Parrot: I love you, Mr Maynard.
Victor Maynard: What the fuck?
Puck: Six beers enter. No beers leave.
Glen McCreavy: Why does the asshole always get the girl?
Puking Guy: Bbrrreeeeeeacccch.
Mr. Nobody: It's ironic, isn't it? The Old Testament had a wrathful God, but people became uneasy with the concept, needed a best seller, so they came up with a New Testament. Suddenly God was loving and forgiving. I'm old-school, myself. I prefer the Old Testament. I mean you've got to love a God who's not afraid to mete out a little vengeance when the need arises.
Johnny Marco: What's that book about again?
Cleo: It's about this girl that's in love with this guy. But he's a vampire, and his whole family's vampires. So she can't really be with him.
Johnny Marco: Why doesn't she become one too?
Cleo: Doesn't she become one too? Cleo: Because she can't. He doesn't want to turn her into a vampire. And if she gets too close to him, he won't be able to help himself.
Johnny Marco: Oh, man.
Dylan Dog: See? That's just what this case needed. A seven-foot tall, flesh-eating zombie. Which begs the question, are there any actual people left in New Orleans?
