She did her best to convince me that she was still in love with me, but that was all over long ago. For your sake, she pretended it wasn’t, and I let her pretend.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, if my happiness could have talked it would have filled that hotel with a deafening roar.
And the witness will address this court as “Judge” or “Your Honor.” I’m quite certain I’ve earned it. Take your seat, Colonel.
Your Honor? Ladies and gentlemen of the, of the audience? I don’t think it’s fair to call my clients frauds. Sure, the blackout was a big problem for everyone, okay? I was locked in an elevator for three hours and had to make the whole time. But I don’t blame them! 'Cuz one time I turned into a dog and they helped me. Thank you.
I’m going to mistrial my foot up your ass if you don’t shut up!
(Objection) sustained. Counselor’s entire opening statement… with the exception of “thank you”… will be stricken from the record.
I’m going to talk to you about the God-damned law. We serve the law. We honour the law. And sometimes, Counsellor, we obey the law. But, Counsellor, this is not one of those times.
No, it wasn’t anything like this. It wasn’t nearly so grand. We were out on the veldt, fighting the Boer. We got them and we shot them under Rule .303!
Killin’ generals could get to be a habit with me.
I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP!
Bobby: I’d like an omelet, plain, and a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast, no mayonnaise, no butter, no lettuce. And a cup of coffee.
Waitress: A #2, chicken salad sand. Hold the butter, the lettuce, the mayonnaise, and a cup of coffee. Anything else?
Bobby: Yeah, now all you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, give me a check for the chicken salad sandwich, and you haven’t broken any rules.
Waitress: You want me to hold the chicken, huh?
Bobby: I want you to hold it between your knees.
You should be locked up in that looney bin on Staten Island that Geraldo Rivera is always exposing!
Call me crazy one. More. Time.
Is that crazy enough for ya’? Want me to take a shit on the floor?
Well that’s just great. Either I have a monster in my kitchen or I’m completely crazy.
I don’t think you’re crazy.
Are you stupid?
Ratigan, nobody has greater respect for you than I do…
And I think you’re a slimy, contemptible sewer rat!
I vant you to understand, when it comes to Yimmy Tudeski, we’re not talking about a human being. We’re talking about a rodent! We’re talking about wermin!
Were you born a fat, slimy, scumbag puke piece o’ shit, Private Pyle, or did you have to work on it?