Fame

Mr. Cranston: Mr. Tavares, you play with elan, brio, gusto, panache and a host of foreign adjectives that indicate excessive style. What you neglect to do is play the music as written. And though your interpretation may be entertaining, it is of no value in my class. May I suggest that the only thing of value you could possibly bring to Bach is your respect. And unless you devote yourself to study, drill and mastery of technique, you will be of little or no value to anyone. Including yourself. Now let's try this again, as written. Parenthetically, study, drill and technique do not stifle talent. They free it. Once more.
Mr. Tavares: Mr. Cranston. This music, it's boring. It's just not my thing.
Mr. Cranston: No, it's Bach's thing. Stubby little German guy. Wore a wig.
Mr. Tavares: Yeah, and he died 1,000 years ago. His teachers told him to stop playing music his Way. He said no.
Mr. Cranston: Really? Well, if his teachers told him that, then they were wrong. And should your music survive for the next 350 years, please allow me to apologize in advance. Proceed. We will suffer through it with you.

Ocean's Eleven

Rusty:
Shane, you've got three pairs. You can't have six cards! You can't have six cards in a five-card game!


Danny Ocean: How's your wife?
Bruiser: Pregnant again.
Danny Ocean: Well, that happens.


Rusty: Barry, your turn.
Barry Watson: Uh... four.
Rusty: You don't want four. You want to fold.
Barry Watson: I do? Is that a good thing?


Cop: That's all you used in the event, nothin' else?
Basher: Hang on, are you accusing me of boobytrapping?
Cop: Well, how about it?
Rusty: Booby traps aren't Mr. Torres style, isn't that right, "Basher"? Peck, ATF. Let me venture a guess, simple g form mainliner, backwound, quick fuse with a drag under 20 feet? Yea... let me ask you somethin else did you search this scumbag for booby traps, on his person? I mean really search, not just for weapons?
Rusty: Stand back.
Basher: Oy. here we go
Rusty: Go find Griggs, tell him I need to see him.
Cop: Who?
Rusty: Just find him, will ya?