|-His name isn't Warren.|
-His name isn't Warren?
-His name isn't Warren.
-I thought his name was Warren.
|What? No Applause?|
|…and I talked to God, and she says 'yo, wassup?', and she wants you to lose the gun.|
|I am guided by a force much greater than luck.|
|-Take the lead.|
-Go on, Gina.
|I don't like the chair.|
|The fat man walks alone.|
|We're both screwed. At least you're used to it.|
|Attention Rex Manning fans, to your left you will notice a shoplifter being chased...this young man will be caught, deep fried and served to our first hundred customers.|
|-I think it's gonna be okay.|
-What makes you think that?
-Who knows where thoughts come from? They just appear.
|This music is the glue of the world Mark. It's what holds it all together. Without this, life would be meaningless.|
|I really think Music Town is torn on the revealing garment issue.|
|I'M BRINGING REX HIS LUNCH!|
|I hate this funeral.|
|Mitchell's the man. I'm the idiot. You're the screw-up. And we're all losers. Welcome to Music Town.|
|Well, Sinead O'Rebellion! Shock-me-shock-me-shock-me with that deviant behavior!|
|They cut it too short.|
|''Say no more, mon amour, say no more…''|
|We mustn't dwell... no, not today. We CAN'T. Not on Rex Manning day.|
|-Hey Lucas, is it true you committed the perfect crime?|
-Not entirely perfect.
|Empire Records, open till midnight, this is Mark. (pause) Midnight!|
|-What's with you today?|
-What with today today?
|Welcome to Music Town, may I service you?|
|-Who glued these quarters down?|
-What the hell for, man?
-I don't feel that I need to explain my art to you, Warren.
|-I told Mitchell that the money was still here.|
-Joe that's not true, it's in Atlantic City. I swear!