Richard Nixon: [a few seconds before the cameras begin to roll] Did you have a pleasant evening last night? David Frost: Yes, thank you. Richard Nixon: Did you do any fornicating?
Rhett Butler: Take a good look my dear. It's an historic moment you can tell your grandchildren about - how you watched the Old South fall one night.
Bard: What news from the night-watch? Alfrid: All quiet, sir. Nothing escapes me. Bard: Except an army of Elves it would seem.
Rob: Look at these. I used to dream I'd be surrounded by exotic women's underwear forever and ever. Now I know they just save their best pairs for the nights they know they're going to sleep with somebody.
Aibileen Clark: 18 people were killed in Jackson that night. 10 white and 8 black. I don't think God has color in mind when he sets a tornado loose.
Dr. Terence Wynn: Now, for God's sake, he can't even drive a car! Dr. Sam Loomis: He was doing very well last night! Maybe someone around here gave him lessons!
Gillespie: Whatcha hit him with? Tibbs: Hit whom? Gillespie: "Whom"? "Whom"? Well, you a northern boy? What's a northern boy like you doing all the way down here?
[first lines] Ofcr. Sam Wood: Where you keeping the pie tonight? Ralph Henshaw, diner counterman: I ate the last piece just before you came in.
Gillespie: You look at bodies all the time in Philadelphia. Why can't you look at this one? Tibbs: Why can't you look at it for yourself? Gillespie: Because I'm not an expert. OFFICER!
Alan Garner: Hey what's that on your arm? Stu Price: Oh my God - Phil, you were in the hospital last night. Phil Wenneck: Yeah, I guess I was. Alan Garner: Are you okay?
[Ringo gets a large pile of fan mail] John: Must have cost you a fortune in stamps, Ringo. George: He comes from a large family.
Man on train: Don't take that tone with me, young man. I fought the war for your sort. Ringo: I bet you're sorry you won.
Ringo: [arrested, at the police station] I demand to see my solicitor! Police Inspector: What's his name? Ringo: Well, if you're gonna get technical about it...
John: Ringo, what are you up to? Ringo: [Ringo is sitting under a hairdryer wearing a beefeater's bearskin hat and reading a magazine] Page five! John: You always fancied yourself as a guardsman, didn't you?
Man On Train: I shall call the guard! Paul: Ah, but what? They don't take kindly to insults, you know. Let's go have some coffee and leave the kennel to Lassie!
[Huge stacks of fan mail is delivered] Ringo: None for me, then? Norm: Sorry. John: [handing Ringo one letter] Here, this'll keep you busy.
Grandfather: It's your nose, you know. Fans are funny that way, they take a dislike to things. They'll pick on a nose. Ringo: Aw, you pick on your own.
Ringo: Funny, really, 'cause I'd never thought of it, but being middle-aged and old takes up most of your time, doesn't it? Grandfather: You're only right.
Ellie Andrews: What is it that we're supposed to be doing again? Peter Warne: Hitchhiking. Ellie Andrews: Well you've shown me an excellent example of the hiking part. When does the hitching come in?
Robin: Oh, I dreamed about your house last night. George: Finished or unfinished? Robin: It was perfect George. Amazing George: Didn't you once dream that you could lick people well?
Grandpa: Every night it's the fucking chicken! Holy God Almighty! Is it possible just once we could get something to eat for dinner around here that's not the goddamned fucking chicken?
