Bob Diamond: Being from Earth, as you are, and using as little of your brain as you do, your life has pretty much been devoted to dealing with fear. Daniel Miller: It has? Bob Diamond: Well everybody on Earth deals with fear -- that's what little brains do. Bob Diamond: ...Fear is like a giant fog. It sits on your brain and blocks everything -- real feelings, true happiness, real joy. They can't get through that fog. But you lift it, and buddy, you're in for the ride of your life. Daniel Miller: God... my three percent is swimming.
[from trailer] Clyde Shelton: You're the one who makes deals with murders yea? Well I've come to make mine. Release me. Nick Rice: [smugly] Or what? Clyde Shelton: Or I kill everyone.
Mary: Mercy House is a place that deals with all kinds of problems, like drug addiction and alcoholism to de-gayification and unwed mothers.
Colonel William F. Guile: Troopers! I have just received new orders. Our superiors say the war is cancelled, and we can all go home. Bison is getting paid off for his crimes, and our friends will have died here... will have died for nothing. But... we can all go home. Meanwhile, ideals like these - freedom, and justice - they get packed up. But... we can all go home. Well... I'm not going home. I'm gonna get on my boat, and I'm going up-river, and I'm going to kick that son-of-a-bitch Bison's ass so HARD... that the next Bison wanna-be is gonna feel it. Now who wants to go home... and who wants to go with ME!
Gusteau: Remy, what are you doing in here? Remy: Emile shows up, I said not to, but he goes and blabs - Yeah! It's a disaster. Anyway, they're hungry, the food safe is locked, I need the key. Gusteau: They want you to steal food? Remy: Yes. No... it's complicated. It's family. They don't have your ideals. Gusteau's Corn Puppies: [the cardboard Gusteaus start speaking] Gusteau's Barbecue Spare-Ribs: Ideals? Hah! If Chef Fancy Pants had any ideals you think I'd be hawkin' barbecue over here? Gusteau's Microwave Burritos: Or Microwave burritos? Gusteau's Tooth-Pickin' Chicken: Or tooth, I say, tooth-pickin' Chicken? S'about as French as a Corn Dog! Gusteau's Corn Puppies: Roof! Rumming Roon! Gusteau's Barbecue Spare-Ribs: Ha! We're inventin' new ways to sell out over here! Gusteau's Haggis Bites: Will ye' be wantin' some Haggis Bites, then? Gusteau: I cannot control how they use my image Remy, I am dead! Remy: Will you guys SHUT UP? I've got to think!
Praetor Shinzon: Some ideals are worth dying for, aren't they, Jean-Luc?
Jimmy McGinty: When the Washington Sentinels left the stadium that date, there was no tickertape parade, no endorsement deals for sneakers or soda pop, or breakfast cereal. Just a locker to be cleaned out, and a ride home to catch. But what they didn't know, was that their lives had been changed forever because they had been part of something great. And greatness, no matter how brief, stays with a man. Every athlete dreams of a second chance, these men lived it.
King Arthur: You may kill me... but you'll never destroy the ideals of Camelot. Ruber: Well, I've got to start somewhere.
[Museum personnel are moving paintings from a threatened museum] 1st. Guard: Man, this Hieronymus Bosch is heavy! 2nd. Guard: That's because he deals with man's inclination towards sin, in defiance of God's will. 1st. Guard: I didn't mean it like that. 2nd. Guard: Oh.
Jill Young: [Gregg is holding out his hand to shake on their deal that Jill is in charge of Joe if they go with him to L.A] That's not how we make deals around here. You have to get bitten by a Mahooky Spider, you'll get a fever and delusions. You'll start to say things. Then if you're intensions prove true... we trust you. Greg O'Hara: [pausing] If I get bit and prove true, you'll come with me? Jill Young: Yep. What do you think? Greg O'Hara: [staring at her] I think that's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. Jill Young: [smiles] maybe you're not such a fool after all.
The Duke: I don't like this ending... Zidler: Don't like the ending, my dear Duke? The Duke: Why should the courtesan chose the penniless sitar player over the maharajah who is offering her a lifetime of security? That's real love. Once the sitar player has satisfied his lust he will leave her with nothing. I suggest that the courtesan chose the maharajah. Toulouse-Lautrec: But, but tell me, that ending does not uphold the Bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and... The Duke: [shouts] I don't care about your ridiculous dogma! Why shouldn't the courtesan chose the maharajah? Christian: [shouts] Because she doesn't love you!... Him... Hi-him, she doesn't love... she doesn't love him. The Duke: Oh, I see... Monsieur Zidler, the play will be rewritten with the courtesan choosing the maharajah and without the lovers' secret song. It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for the opening tomorrow night... Zidler: But, my dear Duke, that will be quite impossible. Satine: Harold, the Duke is being treated appallingly. These silly writers let their imaginations run away with themselves. Why don't you and I have a little supper, and then we can tell Monsieur Zidler how we would like the story to end.
Dean Richmond: Deals come and go. Wellman will always be Wellman. But you know what bothers me? I walking down the street and this 8-year old boy says, Look Mommy, there's the Hamster's BITCH!
Colonel Faris Al Ghazi: This is not a game show, Mr. Fleury. And definitely there are no deals made here. There is me telling you what you may or may not do. And there is you doing it. That's it.
[DJ and Yosemite Sam follow the Queen of Diamonds playing card to Foghorn Leghorn's blackjack table, where it gets shuffled into the deck] Foghorn Leghorn: Place, I say, place your bets! Money plays, loser stays! Everyone's a winn - well, not everyone. Yosemite Sam: [Drops a bag of money on the table] Here's my money, now play! Foghorn Leghorn: Card, sir? DJ Drake: Hit me. Foghorn Leghorn: Don'cha, I say, don'cha wanna look at your cards first, son? Boy's as sharp as a bowling ball. DJ Drake: [looks at the card; it's an ace] Hit me. Yosemite Sam: No, hit me first! Foghorn Leghorn: Wait your, I saya wait your turn, sir. [deals another ace to DJ] DJ Drake: Hit me. [Foghorn deals another ace] DJ Drake: Hit me. Yosemite Sam: No, hit me! [Foghorn continues to deal aces and twos to DJ. Sam can't take it anymore] Yosemite Sam: No, no, no, hit ME, fragnabbit! [Foghorn glances at the audience, then smashes Sam in the head with a piece of wood. Squashed, Sam scuttles around the table, cursing unintelligibly] Foghorn Leghorn: He's the boss. [Back to DJ] Foghorn Leghorn: Card Sir? [DJ winces at the possibility of himself getting hit as well] DJ Drake: [unsure] ... Hit me? [Foghorn finally deals the Queen of Diamonds; DJ snatches it off the table] Foghorn Leghorn: Twenty-one! We have, I say we have a winner! [DJ and Daffy break for the door] Daffy Duck: And then, they made their heroic escape! [Daffy runs facefirst into the door that isn't open. DJ comes back, peels Daffy off, and exits again]
Vincenzo: Man deals and God stacks the deck.
Gloria: Daylight deals a bad hand... Mumble: Sing to this. Gloria: Mumble, you're embarrassing me. [Mumble taps his feet] Gloria: Baby, uh-uh, it don't work [Mumble taps his feet again] Gloria: Baby, uh uh uh, uh-uh [Mumble taps his feet again] Gloria: Uh uh uh, uh [Mumble taps his feet again] Gloria: Uh uh uh, uh [Mumble taps his feet again] Gloria: Uh uh uh/So slowly... [Mumble taps his feet along while Gloria sings] Gloria: So slowly into hearts of those who/Need more than they get/Daylight deals a bad hand/To a penguin that has laid too many bets/The mirror stares you in the face and says/"Baby, uh-uh, it don't work!"/You say your prayers, though you don't care/You sing and you/Shake the hurt... /DANCE!
Gene: How many deals did you get? Penny: Five Gene: Five? Today? You got in at ll:30. Penny: It's not me, Gene, it's the gift. You can't fight that sort of thing - you can't fight the gift.
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