What are you doing to this dog?
Oh, my God, it’s DIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!
Violet’s gone.
Roses are red. Violets are blue. I love Spectre.
I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.
I’m feeling a little, ooh, anxious if you know what I mean. It’s been about six hundred years after all. I wonder where a guy, an everyday Joe like myself, can find a little action.
It is me, dear. Wasn’t I a dish?
Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
I was always kinda partial to Roy Rogers, actually.
Hi-yo, Silver, away!
I’d horsewhip you if I had a horse.
Don’t do it, Dan. No one will think less of you.
My kid showed up. All hell broke loose.
So… this is what it feels like.
Feels like I step on fortune cookie!
My legs! I can’t move my legs!
We demand the right to have our own doctors examine Hinkle.
I’m the hand up Mona Lisa’s skirt. I’m a surprise, Kevin. They don’t see me coming: that’s what you’re missing.
Well, I’m a mushroom-cloud-layin’ motherfucker, motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain, I’m Superfly T.N.T., I’m the Guns of the Navarone!
This is my rifle, this is my gun!
(This is my rifle, this is my gun!)
This is for fighting, this is for fun!
(This is for fighting, this is for fun!)