Marcus:
I’mma penetrate this man’s soul wit my heart.
Mike:
What?

Marcus:
I’mma penetrate this man’s soul wit my heart.
Mike:
What?
Shawn Boswell: Why'd you let me race your car? You knew I was gonna wreck it.
Han: Why not?
Shawn Boswell: 'Cause that's a lot of money.
Han: I have money, it's trust and character I need around me. You know, who you choose to be around you lets you know who you are. One car in exchange for knowing what a man's made of? That's a price I can live with.
Stan Fields:
Miss Rhode Island, please describe your idea of a perfect date.
Cheryl ”Rhode Island”:
That’s a tough one. I’d have to say April 25th. Because it’s not too hot, not too cold, all you need is a light jacket.
Brian O’Connor:
So, Dunn, looks like we’re gonna be partners, bro. Could you tell me right quick what would be a better motor for my Skyline, a Gallo 12 or a Gallo 24?
Agent Dunn:
Um…
[clears throat]
Agent Dunn:
24?
Brian O’Connor:
I didn’t know pizza places made motors.
Agent 47:
We determine who we are by what we do.
[upon reaching Claw Island]
Robin:
Holey rusted metal, Batman!
Batman:
Huh?
Robin:
The ground, it’s all metal. It’s full of holes. You know, holey.
Batman:
Oh.
Sister Ann: The demon preys on the most devout because our guilt, it is the deepest.
Vincent:
Look in the mirror. Paper towels, clean cab. Limo company some day. How much you got saved?
Max:
That ain’t any of your business.
Vincent:
Someday? Someday my dream will come? One night you will wake up and discover it never happened. It’s all turned around on you. It never will. Suddenly you are old. Didn’t happen, and it never will, because you were never going to do it anyway. You’ll push it into memory and then zone out in your barco lounger, being hypnotized by daytime TV for the rest of your life. Don’t you talk to me about murder. All it ever took was a down payment on a Lincoln town car. That girl,you can’t even call that girl. What the fuck are you still doing driving a cab?
Bottles:
The fact is, we all started out as someone’s little angel. And a place like this forces us to become warriors or victims. Nothing in between can exist here.
Sherlock Holmes: Uh, hmm… Right. Where are the wagons?
Madam Simza Heron: The wagon is too slow. Can't you ride?
Dr. John Watson: It's not that he can't ride… How is it you put it, Holmes?
Sherlock Holmes: They're dangerous at both ends and… crafty in the middle. Why would I want anything with a mind of its own bobbing about between my legs?