Caesar: Your servant. Your creature. Your animal!
Breck: But I saw you die.
Caesar: The King is dead. Long live the King! Tell me Breck, before you die – how do we differ from the dogs and cats that you and your kind used to love? Why did you turn us from pets into slaves?
Breck: Because your kind were once our ancestors. Because man was born of apes, and there’s still an ape curled up inside of every man. You’re the beast in us that we have to whip into submission. You’re the savage that we need to shackle in chains. You taint us, Caesar. You poison our guts. When we hate you, we’re hating the dark side of ourselves.
Louisa May Foster: And in all the fourteen years, you’ve never wanted to play anywhere else?
Pinky Benson: Oh, you mean the big time? Boy, why does everybody seem to think you have to want to play the big time? Why? You get to the top of the ladder and you’re a slave to your fans; you’ve got no life of your own. Then you’ve got to start worrying about staying up there. Oh, no. Not for me. I’m happy doing what I’m doing.