Tin Cup - Acknowledgment of Roy's Excellence
Earl:
You the man, Roy. You are definitely the man.
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Tin Cup - Critique of Talent and Professionalism at the Range
Clint: [about Molly]
How can such a pretty girl have such an ugly swing.
Earl: [about Roy]
The word normal and him don't often collide in the same sentence.
David Simms:
Can you people not see that I'm busy? I'm working. This is my office. Do I come to your office and ask for an autograph? I don't think so. Jesus. What an ugly dog.
TV Director:
Another driving range pro, it's all we needed. It's heroes that I need. Not obscure driving range pros.
Jim Nantz:
Unbelievable. McAvoy has done it. You just saw the greatest round in U.S. Open history. The all-time lowest round in a major doesn't belong to a Jack Nicklaus or an Arnold Palmer, Hogan, Nelson or Snead. It's been shot by the most improbable artist of all. Roy McAvoy has his signature on golf's all-time masterpiece round.
Doreen: [to Molly]
You're not one of those women who tries to fix men, I hope. I mean, men cannot be fixed, and especially him.
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Hollywood Homicide - Concerns Among Friends at the Bar
Hank the Bartender: [hands them their drinks]
The doctor's in. Help is on its way.
K.C.: [sighs]
Thanks, Hank. Something wrong, Joe?
Joe:
What do ya mean, "Something wrong?
K.C.:
You seem down.
Joe:
Down? Me?
K.C.:
Lately. Yeah.
Joe:
We've been partners for what, four months, and now you wanna be my shrink?
K.C.: [drinks his beer]
Sometimes it helps to talk. That's all I'm saying.
Joe:
All right. Let me paint you a picture. Portrait of Joe Gavilan. Seven, eight years ago, I sold off the results of my entrepreneurial efforts up to that point: Three tanning salons and two original silk-tip nail parlors in the Antelope Valley, and I started attending weekend Real Estate seminars at the Airport Hyatt. You know, "How to Make $1 Million in Real Estate with Very Little Money Down.
K.C.:
Sounds good.
Joe:
Started out with a condo in Sherman Oaks. Slapped some paint on the walls. Refaced the kitchen cabinets. Traded up to a smoke-damaged ranch in Tarzana, then a Spanish on Outpost, and a fake Mediterranean in Los Feliz. Pretty soon, I had everything I've got tied up in this... this monstrosity... on Mt. Olympus, at the corner of Hercules and, I shit you not, Achilles.
K.C.:
So what's the problem?
Joe:
The problem is if I don't score a big commission or get rid of this... piece of shit on Mt. Olympus... well, the word *Titanic* comes to mind.
K.C.:
Joe, I know a girl who works for some rich producer. Says he might sell his place. Maybe you can get the listing.
Joe:
Got a name?
K.C.:
Well, her name's like Minnie or Moma. Or something like that, I don't remember.
Joe:
Not the girl, hot rocks, the producer.
K.C.:
Oh, I don't know the producer. Way before my time, I...
K.C.:
Hey, Joe, you ready for something?
Joe:
Shoot.
K.C.:
I don't think I want to be a cop anymore.
Joe: [to Hank]
Come on, you need some fresh air. Put this on my tab, Hank.
Hank:
What tab?
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Fletch Lives - Identity Confusion in a Strange Encounter
Fletch:
Name's Ed... Ed Harley.
Joe Jack:
Ed... you sure you're in the right place?
Fletch:
I think so!
Joe Jack:
(mocking) Think so!
Joe Jack:
Ed...
Joe Jack:
What are you doing in here?
Fletch:
I'll give you a hint... Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Fletch:
You don't get it?
Joe Jack:
(grabs Fletch) No, Ed... you're the one that doesn't get it.
Fletch:
Ed HARLEY. Harley-Davidson Motorcycles!
Joe Jack:
(shocked) You own the company?
Fletch:
Well, my granddaddy started it, then my Daddy screwed Davidson out of his half, and now I own the whole thing.
Joe Jack:
(really shocked) Harley-Davidson, no shit?
Fletch:
No shit!
Joe Jack:
(smiling broadly) Hey, everybody! Ed the Third here owns Harley-Davidson! We're the Nazis from Natchez!
Quotes sourced from Wikiquote (© Wikiquote contributors), licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0. Modified for formatting/length.