Harry Monroe: Yes I'm a short son of a bitch, my daddy was a short son of a bitch, my mother was shorter than him, and my brother, my brother was so short we couldn't even see him.

Skip Donahue: This filthy, roach-ridden reality is inspiring... what did that second policeman say to you when he grabbed you by the throat?

Harry Monroe: Man, I don't fucking believe you!

Skip Donahue: "Man, I don't fucking believe you!" Fabulous!

Harry Monroe: You don't get it do you, Skip. You think this is The Count Of Monte Cristo or something. We're in deep trouble. This is the real deal. We're in deep shit.

Rory: That's Grossberger. The biggest mass murderer in the history of the southwest? My dear, he killed his entire family and all of his relatives in one weekend and then he killed some more people that reminded him of his family!

Harry Monroe: Yea, that's right! That's right! We bad!

Harry Monroe: A hundred and twenty five years... Oh God, Oh God... I'll be a hundred and sixty one when I get out.

Skip Donahue: We tried to teach him charades! He didn't get it! He just didnt get it!

Warden Walter Beatty: You're gonna represent Glenboro prison in the annual Top Hand-competition. Congratulations!

Skip Donahue: Oh! Oh my god! Warden! I can't do that!

Warden Walter Beatty: What in the hell are you talking about...?

Skip Donahue: Well, I should have told you in your office! My mother was a veterinarian! I can't have anything to do with the exploitation of animals, she'd turn over in her grave!

Warden Walter Beatty: I don't believe you heard me correctly. This is very important to me!

Skip Donahue: Important to you? My mother is watching over every step I make! Do you know that my soul is on the line here...? So let's just drop...

[looks up]

Skip Donahue: What? I said no. Whoa, I told him no! Ma, are you crazy, I have witnesses... All right, we'll talk about it in my cell!

[looks at the warden]

Skip Donahue: Uhm... I have to go to the bathroom. Would you excuse me, warden?

[looks up at the sky again, and walks off]

Harry: Geez, what's wrong with him?

Young Man in Hospital: Oh that's Johnson. He's on a hunger strike so they are force-feeding him to keep him alive.

Harry: At least there's some humanity here.

Young Man in Hospital: They're going to electrocute him next week.

Skip Donahue: What are you doing?

Harry Monroe: I'm gettin bad. You better get bad, Jack cause if you ain't bad you're gonna get fucked.

Blade: The rodeo clown is the most DANGEROUS job, 'cause he gets CLOSEST to the BULL. He gets the BEST of the BULL! HOOK to the left! HOOK to the right! And if the bull rider's in trouble, he's gotta protect him, even if it means gettin' his ribs pulled out, or bein' freight-trained...

Harry Monroe: Freight-trained?

Blade: Run over, just like a freight train, only with a bull, it's worse, cause a freight train don't BACK UP and FINISH the JOB. Later on I'll show you how to lie out on the stretcher when the ambulance comes.

[Harry slaps Rory's hand when he touches his hand]

Harry: Do you mind? What'd you kill your step-father for anyway?

Rory: Criticizing my new fur jacket... and... slapping my hand.

[Harry puts Rory's hand back on his hand]

Blade: Now every bull has a secret word that makes him crazy, and sends him into his craziest ride, Your job is to figure out that word.

Harry Monroe: Bull... uh... let's see. Uh... rumplestiltskin. Uh... malt liquor... come on bull.

[whistles and makes kissing noises]

Harry Monroe: Come on, bull. Uh... woof, woof! Uh...

[makes clicking sound with tongue]

Harry Monroe: ... hey sexy... hee-hee... shit!

[Bull bellows and charges at Harry]

Harry Monroe: [Running away from bull] Oh, you mother-fucker!

Blade: Congratulations, you found the word!

Big Mean: What's the charge?

Harry Monroe: Innocent.

Big Mean: Ain't we all?

Harry Monroe: Bank robbery?

Big Mean: Oh, shit.

Harry Monroe: Ooooh, shit!

Big Mean: You can kiss the baby.

Harry Monroe: Kiss the baby?

Skip Donahue: [to Big Mean] What baby is that sir?

Big Mean: Ask your lawyer.

[laughs and walks away]

Harry Monroe: [whimpering] Pillow... I want my pillow.

Rory: That's Blade. He runs the third world side of Cell Block 2. My dear, till Grossberger came along he held the axe murder record in the south-west! He's the one I'm gonna get you the cheeseburger from. How do you like it, medium?

Harry Monroe: Oh no, I don't want no cheeseburger, I'm trying to, er, keep my weight down.

Rory: Don't worry about him, I'll protect you. I'll protect you!

Harry Monroe: I'm getting a little podge.

Rory: For some reason I make him uneasy!

[Waves in a very camp manner toward Blade]

Harry Monroe: I wonder why? Hi

[waves at Blade]

Harry Monroe: . I'm going!

[Calls after Skip]

Harry Monroe: Skip my friend.

[Then, to Rory]

Harry Monroe: Excuse me would you?

Rory: I'll come with you.

Harry Monroe: Awwwww... shit!

Skip Donahue: I want a bigger cell! With better ventilation!

Deputy Ward Wilson: Why? Grossberger been fartin' on ya?

Blade: He'll snot on ya, he'll fart on ya... he'll do anything he can to smash your brains out.