[to Harry, as he is taking care of a sudden nosebleed]
Waitress: What did she do? Slap you through the phone?
Charlotta: Is this your blood... or mine?
Gerstead: Pal, it's after four in the morning. All of the helicopter pilot bars are closed.
Harry Washello: Does she always sleep this deep?
Lucy Peters: She took a Valium.
Harry Washello: I was just wondering if you know if anyone here had a son named Chip.
Stewardess: I had an uncle named Chett.
Harry Washello: Who is this?
Chip: Oh. Where's my dad? Go get my dad!
Harry Washello: Your dad? T-t-there's nobody here! W-w-where is he supposed to be?
Chip: How the hell would I know? You're in Orange County and I'm in North Dakota!
Harry Washello: Hey, is this is some kind of a prank or something?
Chip: A prank? A prank? Oh, God! Is this 254-9411?
Harry Washello: Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, it is! But listen - it's just a phone booth. I-I-it's a phone booth in a coffee shop. I heard it ringing...
Chip: Isn't this 714? Did I dial 213? Shit!
Landa: [on the phone] Mr. Sagan? Yes, I understand, I do apologize, but what I'm about to tell you is something quite horrific.
Gerstead: [watching a missile pass overhead] Look at that baby *go*! It's going all the way to Tia-fucking-juana.
[after their first kiss]
Julie Peters: Third date, Harry, I'm gonna screw your eyes blue.
Harry Washello: Yup! Just your basic old-fashioned girl.
Wilson: [Harry is forcing him to drive the wrong way on Wilshire Boulevard, at gunpoint] What's the hurry, Harry?
Harry Washello: I gotta catch a plane.
Wilson: The airport's the other way.
Harry Washello: I forgot something.
Harry Washello: Hey! Hey, do you know anybody who can fly a...
Harlan: [shouts] Fuck you!
Transvestite: There's lots of good actors in this town with insomnia and nothing better to do than stupid things like that.
[making the list of great minds for Landa]
Waitress: What about Pat Riley?
Mike: Pat Riley? Come on!
Waitress: She's a leader. My cousin knows...
Mike: J-just write down what I say, okay? We're talking Mensa.
Waitress: [writing down] Mensa.
Mike: That's not a person, that's an organization. People like Linus Pauling. Write this down. Jane and Tom. And Harry Belafonte.
Waitress: Ah, what about Joyce Brothers? She's smart.
Mike: [shouts] Fuck Joyce Brothers! Danny Berrigan, and his brother. Bobby Seale. Dick Gregory.
Waitress: You have these people's phone numbers?
Lucy Peters: Wait a minute! You just tell me what the hell's going on.
Harry Washello: Mrs. Peters, in a half-an-hour there's going to be a full-on nuclear attack. The missiles are on their way now. L.A.'s going to be a desert again very soon.
Julie Peters: People are gonna help each other, aren't they? Rebuilding things?
Harry Washello: I think it's the insects's turn.
Landa: Mike, I want you and Susie to make a list for me. People who we might want to bring along. Scientists, leaders, great minds. I want it in five minutes, okay?
Nightwatchman: I don't pump gas. You're gonna have to pump that yourself. [Tosses the pump keys to Harry]
Wilson: [Harry tosses the pump keys to Wilson] Y'all got the guns.
Julie Peters: Hell, I'll write an article about all this for "Esquire." Someone'll probably make a TV movie out of it.