Lana: That was quite a story. Right entertainin', but Sugar I don't know who you think you're foolin'.
Hugh: What do you mean?
Lana: Lana may be three sheets to the preverbial wind, but I don't believe a single word coming out of your pretty, straight, little mouth.
Keenan: This may sound corny, but... you don't want me. I'm damaged goods.
Joan: So? We're all damaged goods.