Jules Winnfield: Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyrannies of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For he is truly his brothers' keeper and finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.' Now I've been saying that shit for years, and if you've ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never gave much thought to what it meant, I just thought it was a cold blooded thing to say to a mother fucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this morning that made me think twice. Now I'm thinking it could mean you're the evil man, and I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here is the shepherd, protecting my righteous ass. Or maybe it means that you're the righteous man, and I'm the shepherd, and it's the world that's evil and selfish. Now I'd like that, but you see that shit ain't the truth. The truth is, YOU'RE the weak, and I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm trying, Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd.
Lloyd: What do you mean you don't bet? Wussy! Wussy!
Harry: I never have and I never will.
Lloyd: Yeah, right. I bet you twenty bucks I can get you gambling before the end of the day.
Harry: No way.
Lloyd: I give you three to one odds.
Lloyd: Five to one?
Lloyd Ten to one?
Harry: You're on.
[Lloyd and Harry both shake hands and smile.]
Lloyd: I'm gonna get you.
Lloyd: I don't know how, but I'm gonna get you.
Forrest Gump: Bit me directly in the but-tocks. They said it was a million dollar wound, but the Army must keep that money, 'cause I still ain't seen a nickel of that million dollars.
[Randal reads a newspaper while a customer studies two rental choices.]
Customer: They say so much, but they never tell you if it's any good.
[Randal continues reading, not even ackowledging her.]
Customer: Are either of these any good?
[Randal continues to read.]
Customer: Are either of these any good?
Randal: I don't watch movies.
Customer: Well, have you heard anything about either of them?
Customer: You've never heard anybody say anything about either movie?
Randal: I find it's best to stay out of other people's affairs.
[The customer turns around, then turns back with the same two movies.]
Customer: Well, how about these two movies?
[Randal still never looks up.]
Randal: They suck!
Customer: I just held up the same two movies. You're not even paying attention.
Randal: No, I wasn't.
Customer: I don't think your manager would appreciate...
Randal: I don't appreciate your ruse, ma'am.
Customer: I beg your pardon?
Randal: Your ruse. Your cunning attempt to trick me.
Customer: I only pointed out that you weren't paying any attention to what I was saying.
Randal: I hope it feels good.
Customer: You hope what feels good?
Randal: I hope it feels so good to be right. There is nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others, is there?
Customer: Well this is the last time I ever rent here...
Randal: You'll be missed.
Customer: Screw you!
[The customer storms out. Randal runs out into the street.]
Randal: Hey you're not allowed to rent here anymore!
The Creature: I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
George: Excuse me, sir, can I help you? Oh, Mr. Swinton, I didn't recognize you.
Stewart: I'm here to see Miss Alden, George.
George: Well, I'm afraid I'll have to call. May I ask your business with Miss Alden?
Stewart: My business is pleasure, George. Does she look like the fuck of the decade or what?
Chazz: Who'd win in a wrestling match, Lemmy or God?
Chris Moore: Lemmy.
[Rex imitates a game show buzzer.]
Chris Moore: God?
Rex: Wrong, dickhead. Trick question. Lemmy is God.
Pumbaa: Hey, Timon, ever wonder what those sparkly dots are up there?
Timon: Pumbaa, I don't wonder; I know.
Pumbaa: Oh. What are they?
Timon: They're fireflies. Fireflies that, uh... Got stuck up on that big bluish-black thing.
Pumbaa: Oh, gee. I always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away.
Timon: Pumbaa, with you, everything's gas.