Mel Feynman: Richie, how old are you?
Young Richard: Six.
Mel Feynman: Well, act your age.
Mac: Whose baby?
Aldo: Breakfast is soived.
Snaps: "Served", you paluka.
Robert Benham: This isn't exactly comfortable for me, I know you wanted this job. I suppose if we were rival princes, I could just have you killed. It would save a lot of politics.
Graham Marshall: It's not that easy to kill someone and get away with it.
