Helen Gamble: I need it, Richard. Give it to me.
Richard Bay: What?
Helen Gamble: The speech. Why we do what we do.
Richard Bay: Oh, I am not really in the mood after...
Helen Gamble: PLEASE, Richard. I NEED it. Please give it to me. And don't just phone it in.
Richard Bay: Helen...
Helen Gamble: Please! Can't you see how demoralized I am?
Richard Bay: OK. (takes a deep breath) There are heroes in this world. They're called District Attorneys. They don't get to have clients, people who smile at them at the end of the trial, who look them in the eye and say, "thank you." Nobody is there to appreciate the District Attorney, because we work for the state. And our gratitude comes only from knowing there's a tide out there. A tide the size of a tsunami coming out of a bottomless cesspool. A tide called crime, which, if left unchecked will rob every American of his freedom. A tide which strips individuals of the privilege of being able to, to walk down a dark street or take twenty dollars out of an ATM machine without fear of being mugged. All Congress does is talk, but it's the District Attorney who grabs his sword, who digs into the trenches and fights the fight. Who dogs justice day, after day, after day without thanks, without so much as a simple pat on the back. But we do it. We do it, we do it because we are the crusaders, the last frontier of American justice. Knowing that if a man cannot feel safe, he can never, never feel free.
Helen Gamble: Thank you.
Eugene Young: Bobby, if stupidity were a crime, your ass would be in jail for life!
Priest: With Catholics like you, who needs Protestants?
Bobby Donnell: It's better that ten guilty men go free, than one innocent man suffer.
Judge: Your motion is denied. I am losing my patience!
Ellenor: To hell with patience, you've lost your MIND, and that hasn't slowed you down!
Bobby: Let me tell you what I know. I've always known you to be a judge who's about the law. Despite all the wacky stuff you've got going on, when you put that robe on you've always been a judge. A good one, a fair one. You pride yourself on that, where the HELL was your pride today? The district attorney delivered one of the most bigoted closings I've ever seen. And you didn't blink. The prejudice in this trial had been SCREAMING, and the loudest scream came in the form of that verdict. How in God's name can you let it stand?
Judge Kittleson: For the record counsel, what you call bigotry, the district attorney calls motive. And she's free to argue that. Second, circumstantial evidence is enough to convict and the jury found that evidence to be compelling. It is not my function to substitute my judgment. And lastly, off the record, any man whose brother burns women alive, can't be all good. Now please leave.
Bobby: Wow, I guess prejudice is cloaked in black robes sometimes too.
Lindsay: Bite me.
Richard Bay: What Mr. Donnell is saying is he doesn't trust juries. Well, that's the system of this country. And if it displeases him, perhaps he should move to Cuba.
Judge Zoey Hiller: Mr. Bay, did you see the sign, "Check your soapbox at the door"?
Judge Roberta Kittleson: I'm sorry, Mr. Bay. I'm not going to allow the prosecution to call defense counsel to impeach a state's witness. You got a bad bounce. You'll just have to deal with it.
Richard Bay: This is a total gyp.
Lindsay: What am I, a pineapple?
[accused of plotting his wife's death]
Client: I guess you can't ask someone to trust you after you've planned their death.
Bobby: You think it's tough defending the guilty, Lindsay? Try the innocent... it's terrifying.
Bobby: Once in a while you get an innocent, and that's why we do this.
[to another attorney]
Helen: Oh, go kill yourself.
Helen: Who's the judge?
Richard: Kittleson, I hate her too.
Helen: And why is that?
Richard: Because... Raymond Oz called me a midget at sidebar. She could've held him in contempt.
Helen: He was the defendant! She...
Richard: Then she half-called me a midget, too.
Richard: It was a slip. She said 'midg', then caught herself. I hate her too.
[to George Vogelman]
Ellenor: You don't shout at me... ever.
Helen: If you're in love with the guy, be a woman about it and claw my eyes out. I'd do it to you.
Ellenor: You gotta admit, we're pretty good at what we do.
Bobby: Maybe we're bred to fight a little dirty.
Lindsay: Hail, hail freedom of the press. I think it's time to send a message to all the cockroaches.
[on George's innocence]
Susan Robin's father: You're getting paid to think that.
Eugene: I get paid to represent him. What I think isn't up for sale.
[part of her closing argument]
Helen: This man comes from a society that treats women as commodities. A nation that burns bad wives. In America we don't do that. We don't condone honor killings. We don't consider any murder to be honorable. You all know what he did. Come back with a verdict which reminds him what country he is in now.
Judge Roberta Kittleson: You can write your congressman if you don't like the law, counsel. In here, we simply follow it.
[Bobby and Lindsay are getting their marraige license. When reviewing their information, the lady helping them makes a crack about 'Lindsay Suzanne Dole']
Lady: [to Lindsay] Your initials are LSD - isn't that funny?
Bobby: Lindsay, I've only had two dreams my whole life. One was to pitch for the Red Sox, the other was to meet and marry the greatest woman in the whole world... one for two isn't bad...
[touching her cheek]
Bobby: Now if I could just get you to take a little medication for your mood swings...
Lindsay: [bending his finger backwards, grinning] Is that so?
Bobby: Ow! Ow! Okay! Okay! Uncle!
Lindsay: Don't 'here we go' me! If you 'here we go' me, one more time...
Bobby: Listen to yourself.
Lindsay: Oh, and I hate that one, too - "listen to yourself". "Here we go" and "listen to yourself". If you say those things, in our marriage, I will scream. Okay? Do you hear me? You know, it's good to know these things before we become husband and wife. This is very, very, healthy.
Lindsay: You've made every decision without consulting me, and now you're telling me that I have to wear your dead mother's doily? Well, I'm not. I'm wearing the dress that I picked out. If I have to eat communion, you can swallow this.
Helen: [to Ellenor] Roommates are supposed to share their little sexual secrets. I sleep with this football player, he comes over with his poodle. Dog likes to lick my toes during. . . Just kidding.