Patrick Bateman: There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there.
When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues, Jack?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."
Jack Burton: [tapping on the walls] Two, three feet thick, I'll bet. Probably welded shut from the outside, and covered with brick by now! Wang Chi: Don't give up, Jack! Jack Burton: Oh, okay, I won't, Wang! Let's just *chew* our way outta here
Woody: What happened to you? Buzz: One minute you're defending the whole galaxy, and, suddenly, you find yourself sucking down Darjeeling with Marie Antoinette....and her little sister! Woody:I think you've had enough tea for today, let's get you outta here, Buzz. Buzz: Don't you get it?
[points to a doll's hat on his head] Buzz: You see the hat? I am Mrs. Nesbitt!
[laughs hysterically] Woody: Snap out of it, Buzz!
[opens Buzz's helmet, slaps Buzz across the face with his detached arm, then closes the helmet] Buzz: [calmly] I-I-I... you're right. I'm sorry, I am just a little depressed, that's all. I can get through this.
[breaks down again] Buzz: Oh, I'm a sham!