Velma Von Tussle: You don’t need those. . . to see what’s under these clothes.
Wilbur Turnblad: There’s a product that really works ’cause these are phony as a three dollar bill.
Velma Von Tussle: Incredible! I could do a fan dance with a lettuce leaf… and you would remain completely obtuse.
Wilbur Turnblad: Obtuse.
Velma Von Tussle: Yes, obtuse.
Wilbur Turnblad: I flunked geometry.
Velma Von Tussle: Yeah, well-and biology too, no doubt!
Wilbur Turnblad: Yeah.
Mr. Smith: You got spunk. There was this guy, big guy, Irish-Italian, red face, black hair, jolly son of a bitch. Nobody could make me laugh like him. Made a science out of collecting jokes. Closed more bars together than I could count. He was a pal. I loved the crazy Mick. I’m not ashamed to say that, but he was a fuck-up. He had this image of himself. He thought he was a con man. Always trying to shave the edge. He was nickel and dime. I’ll always miss him. Tell me why.
Gene Watson: Tell you why what?
Mr. Smith: Tell me why I miss him.
Gene Watson: He’s dead?
Mr. Smith: That’s right. But tell me why.
Gene Watson: How do I know?
Mr. Smith: Tell me why he’s dead.
Gene Watson: ‘Cause you killed him.
Mr. Smith: That’s right. He fucked up once too often, so I put a bullet in his eye, two more to be sure. Now, that was somebody I loved. I loved him. But I got the call, I put him down like a sick animal. So if you got doubts about what’s gonna happen if you don’t deliver, let me tell you something. I’ll make gravy out of your little girl, just to season that black Irish cocksucker’s meat. You do what you’re supposed to do. You do it now.
Johnny Smith: I keep thinking about a line from a book, it’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” the last thing I gave my class to read before. . .the accident. Ichabod Crane disappears. . .the line goes: “As he was a bachelor, and in nobody’s debt, nobody troubled their head about him anymore.”
Sarah Bracknell: Is that what you’re afraid of?
Johnny Smith: It’s what I want.
Duane: Can I confess something? I tell you this as an artist, I think you’ll understand. Sometimes when I’m driving. . .on the road at night. . .I see two headlights coming toward me. Fast. I have this sudden impulse to turn the wheel quickly, head-on into the oncoming car. I can anticipate the explosion. The sound of shattering glass. The. . .flames rising out of the flowing gasoline.
Alvy Singer: Right. Well, I have to – I have to go now, Duane, because I, I’m due back on the planet Earth.