Just a "small" selection!
From "Con Air":
Cyrus: Make a move and the bunny gets it!
Cyrus: I despise rapists. For me, they're somewhere between a cockroach and that white stuff that accumulates at the corners of your mouth when you're really thirsty. But, in your case, I'll make an exception.
Garland Greene: What if I told you insane was working fifty hours a week in some office for fifty years at the end of which they tell you to piss off; ending up in some retirement village hoping to die before suffering the indignity of trying to make it to the toilet on time? Wouldn't you consider that to be insane?
Garland Greene: He's a fountain of misplaced rage. Name your cliche; Mother held him too much or not enough, last picked at kickball, late night sneaky uncle, whatever. Now he's so angry that moments of levity actually cause him pain; give him headaches. Happiness, for that gentleman, hurts.
Billy Bedlam: Have you lost your mind?
Cyrus: According to my last psych evaluation, yes.
Baby O: What's wrong with him?
Cameron Poe: My first guess would be... a lot.
Johnny 23: Do you know what I am?
Cameron Poe: Ugly all day?
Guard Falzon: If any of you so much as pass gas in my direction and upset my delicate nasal passages, your testicles will become my private property.
From "Pulp Fiction"
Vincent: [to Marvin] Why the fuck didn't you tell us somebody was in the bathroom? Slipped your mind? Did you forget that somebody was in there with a goddamn hand cannon?
[Jules shoots the guy on the couch during Brett's interrogation]
Jules: Oh, I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?
Butch: Starin' at something, friend?
Vincent: I ain't your friend, palooka.
Butch: What did you say?
Vincent: I think you heard me just fine, punchy.
Mia: Don't you hate that?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don't know. That's a good question.
Mia: That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share a silence.
Captain Koons: The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any of the slopes were gonna get their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.
From "Gone In 60 Seconds"
Sway: What do you think is more exciting , having sex or stealing cars?
Memphis: Having sex or boosting cars... Um, oo! Uh. How about having sex WHILE boosting cars?
Donny: [shuts car off] Don't touch nothing! You can't negotiate turns. You can't signal properly. You can't maintain speed. You can't parallel park. Hell, you can't drive, honey. Shit, I can't swim, I know I can't. So you know what I do? I stay my black ass out the pool!
From "The Rock"
Commander Anderson: Have you ever been in a combat situation?
Stanley Goodspeed: Define combat, sir.
Commander Anderson: Shep...
Lt. Shephard: An incursion underwater to retake an impregnable fortress held by an elite team of US Marines in possession of 81 hostages and fifteen guided rockets armed with VX poison gas.
Stanley Goodspeed: Oh. In that case, no, sir.
John Mason: This is more enjoyable than my average day... reading philosophy, avoiding gang rape in the washrooms... though, it's less of a problem these days... maybe I'm losing my sex appeal.
Stanley Goodspeed: Mason, you all right?
John Mason: [hanging upside down] Yes. Perfectly okay, you fucking idiot.
From "Blazing Saddles"
Church Congregation: [singing] Now is a time of great decision / Are we to stay or up and quit? / There's no avoiding this conclusion: / Our town is turning into shit. Amen.
Jim: You've got to remember that these are just simple farmers. These are people of the land. The common clay of the new West. You know... morons.
Hedley Lamarr: My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.
Taggart: God darnit Mr. Lamarr, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore.
Taggart: What do you want me to do sir?
Hedley Lamarr: I want you to round up ever vicious criminal and gun slinger in the west. Take this down.
[Taggart looks for a pen and paper while Hedley talks]
Hedley Lamarr: I want rustlers, cut throats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperados, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswogglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, shit-kickers and Methodists.
Taggart: [finding pen and paper] Could you repeat that, sir?
Reverend Johnson: Order, order. Goddamnit I said "order".
Howard Johnson: Y'know, Nietzsche says: "Out of chaos comes order."
Olson Johnson: Oh, blow it out your ass, Howard.