Garfield: Madam, I'm a cat in trouble. I'm hitching a ride in your mumu.
Luca: You're gonna' get it good today.
Garfield: I make it a point to get it good, everyday.
Garfield: I think... I'm going to blow cat chow chunks.
Garfield: Sir Roland?
Persnikitty: In the fur.
Garfield: I can do this. Beyond this intersection is just another intersection, and another, and another. On the other hand, I wonder if there's any meatloaf left in the fridge. No, now is not the time for a plate of meatloaf. Now is the time for a plate of courage. Ladies and gentlemen, Garfield has left the cul-de-sac.
Garfield: Poor Odie. He faces a life of torture, neglect and degradation... Hey, nobody gets to mistreat my dog like that except me.
Garfield: I slept like a fat cat.
Garfield: Why, why has this happened? I was the one... it was all about me. Not about some... stupid, sniffling, smelly, high-maintenance... disco dog!.
Luca: You're on the wrong side of the street, fat cat. Beat it.
Garfield: And you, Luca. You're on the wrong side of the evolutionary curve.
Train station computer.: Collision in 20 seconds.
Garfield: Gosh, you sound like my mother.
Garfield: If I didn't have a box over my head, I'd be humiliated.
Garfield: I'll purr like a Ferrari. Make that a Jaguar.
Garfield: Jon! Jon! Odie is on TV, and he's wearing lederhosen.
Garfield: I don't leave the cul-de-sac for anything.
Garfield: This rescue thing is exhausting. When do heroes get to eat?
Frank Quinn: You've been wanting a shot at sales. As of right now, you're on commission. Remember - foot in the door, establish trust, and drop the hammer.
Buddy: I'd rather you go too.
Frank Quinn: No doubt. But if you don't do this by yourself, you'll never know if you're any good. And you'll never be good if you don't know that you are.
Frank Quinn: What are the odds in a funeral home going broke when you have a business that everybody on Earth needs? If you can't make that work, it's got to be you, right? And yet, I don't know. What do you do when people won't die?
Frank Quinn: I sold 26 of the ugliest cars in the middle of December with the wind blowing so far up my ass I was farting snowflakes into July.
Ray Stantz: Where do these stairs go?
Peter Venkman: They go up.
