Bubba Ho-Tep (2002)

Elvis: Uh, Mr. President... You're on the floor.
JFK: No shit?

Elvis: Look, man, President Johnson's dead.
JFK: Shit. That ain't gonna stop him.

Elvis: Man, you are one big, bitch cockroach.

Elvis: That's my daughter.
JFK: I know. We weren't there for our kids when they needed us, were we?
Elvis: Man, if I could just talk to her again... tell her I love her... try and make things right somehow.
JFK: No time for regrets, Elvis. We were the best fathers we could be under the circumstances.
Elvis: Yeah, I guess, no time for regrets. We got business to take care of.

Elvis: Ask not what your rest home can do for you. Ask what you can do for your rest home.
JFK: Hey, you're copying my best lines.
Elvis: Then let me paraphrase one of my own. Let's take care of business.
JFK: Just what are you getting at, Elvis?
Elvis: I think you know what I'm gettin' at Mr. President. We're gonna kill us a mummy.

Elvis: Your soul suckin' days are over, amigo.

Elvis: It'd been two presidential elections since I'd had a boner like that.

Elvis: Shitty pictures man. Every single one.

Elvis: My God, man. How long have I been here? Am I really awake, or am I just dreamin' I'm awake? How could my plans have gone so wrong?

Callie: But why would you want to leave all that fame, Mr. Presley? All that money?
Elvis: I don't know. 'Cause they got old. The woman I loved - Priscilla - she was gone. The rest of the women... were just women. I mean the music wasn't even mine anymore. I wasn't even me anymore. Just this thing they made up. And my friends... well they were sucking me dry.

JFK: He had me on the floor and had his mouth over my asshole.
Elvis: A shit eater?
JFK: I don't think so. He was after my soul. Now you can get that out of any major orifice of a person's body. I read about it.
Elvis: Oh, yeah? Where, man? Hustler?

Elvis: No offense, Jack, but President Kennedy was a white man.
JFK: They dyed me this color! That's how clever they are.

Elvis: Look, man, do I look like an ichthyologist to you? Big damn bugs, all right? The size of my fist. The size of a peanut butter and banana sandwich. What do I know? I got a growth on my pecker.

Elvis: It's time for A-C-T-I-O-N.

Elvis: The revealing of her panties wasn't intentional or unintentional. She just didn't give a damn. She saw me as so physically and sexually non-threatening, she didn't mind if I get a bird's eye view of her love nest. It was same to her as a house cat sneaking a peek.

Elvis: You could've come and seen him. They don't charge you for that.

Elvis: But what do I care? I got a growth on my pecker.

Elvis: Where'd my youth go? Why didn't fame hold off old age and death? Why the hell did I leave the fame in the first place and do I want it back, and could I have it back? And if I could, would it make any damned difference?

Kemosabe: Asshole! Asshole! Asshole! Asshole... Asshole.

Elvis: But I still have my soul. It's still mine. All mine. And the folks up there at Shady Rest... they have theirs, too. And they're gonna keep 'em. Every single one.