Mr. Ditkovich: If promises were crackers, my daughter would be fat.
Nick: Hey, Mr. Peanut Butter Cups.
Henry: Hey, Mr. Could-Kill-Me-In-One-Punch.
Jenna: What happened?
Matt: I don't know. I can pretty much peg it to your 13th birthday party, when you were in the closet playing that game. Spin the Rapist?
Jenna: Seven Minutes in Heaven.
Mark Darcy: Would you step outside please?
Daniel Cleaver: I'm afraid it's not possible.
Mark Darcy: Look are you gonna step outside or do I have to drag you?
Daniel Cleaver: I think you're gonna have to drag me.
Tibor: Enjoy Bratislava. It's good you came in summer, in winter it can get very depressing.
Mort: I don't care. I'm just gonna smoke. I'm just gonna totally smoke. I'll finish these, go to the store and get a brand-new pack, smoke the shit out of that one.
Tommy Johnson: What else are you gonna do on a Saturday? Sit in your fuckin' armchair wankin' off to Pop Idols? Then try and avoid your wife's gaze as you struggle to come to terms with your sexless marriage? Then go and spunk your wages on kebabs, fruit machines and brasses? Fuck that for a laugh! I know what I'd rather do. Tottenham away, love it.
Madam Suliman: It's time to put an end to this idiotic war.
Nate Johnson: Nikki, this better be FTD, cuz this Russian tail is old enough to be yo' grandaddy.
Nikki Johnson: Not mom's big daddy.
Jesus: Forgive them, Father. They know not what they do.
Daniel: If you can reach out and touch the horizon, you're at your journeys end.
Audrey: James Joyce?
Daniel: My Uncle Clive, but, equally profound, don't you think?
Cole Burris: I'm so hungry, I'd sell my Grandmother for a tic tac.
Alice: My name...is Alice. And I remember everything.
Angelica: Rosalee, when great love is rejected something inside a man dies.
Captain Mack: Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude of 33 thousand feet... 33 thousand feet? Oh shit, man! We fuckin' higher than Redman at the Source Awards.