Ray Stantz: You know, it's just occurred to me, we really haven't had a completely successful test of this equipment.
Egon Spengler: I blame myself.
Peter Venkman: So do I.
Ray Stantz: Well, no sense in worrying about it now.
Peter Venkman: Why worry? Each of us is wearing an unlicensed nuclear accelerator on his back.
Peter Venkman: We've been going about this whole thing all wrong. This Mr. Stay Puft is OK. He's a sailor. He's in New York. We get this guy laid, we won't have any trouble.
Jack Hardemeyer: I'm Jack Hardemeyer, I'm the mayor's assistant. I know who you are Dr. Venkman, I just don't see any ghosts anywhere.
Peter Venkman: Well that's why I wanted to talk to his Highness. See, we did a little job for the city a while back and we got stiffed on the bill by some bureaucratic bookworm like yourself.
Jack Hardemeyer: Look, you stay away from the mayor. He's running for governor next fall and the last thing we need is for him to be associated with two-bit frauds and publicity hounds like you and your friends.
Peter Venkman: You know, I'm a voter. Aren't you supposed to lie to me and kiss my butt?
Phil: Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?
Mrs. Lancaster: I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen.
Phil: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?
Ralph: That about sums it up for me.
Phil: You want a prediction about the weather, you're asking the wrong Phil. I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life.
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