Evelle: Mighty fine cereal flakes, Mrs. McDonough.
H.I.: What kind of name is Ed for a pretty thing like you?
Ed McDonnough: Short for Edwina. Turn to the right.
H.I.: You're a flower, you are. Just a little desert flower.
FBI Agent: Sir, we discovered you were born Nathan Huffheins.
Nathan Arizona Sr.: Yeah, I changed my name. What of it?
FBI Agent: Can you give us an indication why?
Nathan Arizona Sr.: Would you shop at a store called Unpainted Huffheins?
H.I.: I tried to stand up and fly straight, but it wasn't easy with that sumbitch Reagan in the White House. I dunno. They say he's a decent man, so maybe his advisors are confused.
H.I.: If it's all the same to you, Honey, I think I'll skip this little get together, slip out with the boys and knock back a couple of Coca Colas.
[Ed gives him a look of disapproval]
H.I.: I guess that wouldn't be such a good idea.
Gale: So many social engagements, so little time.
Prison Counsellor: Why do you say you feel "trapped" in a man's body?
"Trapped" Convict: Well, sometimes I get them menstrual cramps real hard.
H.I.: I"m in here on my knees, Ed, a free man proposing. Howdy, Kurt.
Nathan Arizona Sr.: Eight hundred leaf-tables and no chairs? You can't sell leaf-tables and no chairs. Chairs, you got a dinette set. No chairs, you got dick!
Glen: Say, did you hear about the person of the Polish persuasion who walked into a bar with a big 'ol pile of shit in his hands and he says, "Look what I almost stepped in"?
Gale: I know you're partial to convenient stores, but dammit, H.I., the sun doesn't rise and set on the corner grocery.
Gale: You understand, H.I.? If this works out, it's just the beginning of a spree to cover the entire southwest proper. And we keep going until we can retire. Or we get caught.
Evelle: Either way, we're fixed for life.
H.I.: This here's the TV. Two hours a day, maximum, either... either educational or football, so's, y'know, you don't ruin your appreciation of the finer things.
H.I.: Need a beer, Glen?
Glen: Does the Pope wear a funny hat?
