Peter: [thinking Wallace is Brett] Don't just stand there. Kill her!
[Wallace retrieves a knife from his waist]
Peter: What's the knife got to do with anything?
[Wallace starts stabbing Corinne]
Peter: Yeah, that's it.
Willy: I... I just went to get the gun, trying to show you how to put a bullet in the chamber. See that? I got him right between the eyes! Just like I said... Right between the eyes! Damn... You see that Ally? Right betw... right between the eyes! Just like I said. Between... between the eyes. Got him... I got him, right between the eyes Ally! I got the fucker right between the eyes. Right between the eyes Ally. Just like I said... Right between the eyes!
Peter: [Laurel is seen kissing Dominic when a light, operated by Brett, is shined on them] Is our, uh, Cinderella ready to her scene, or does she still need time to warm up?
Laurel: Brett, you're a fucking bastard!
Brett: Arose by any other name.
Ferrari: It's looking fine just the way it is. I think you've pushed the erotic angle about as far as you can.
Peter: The "erotic angle"? Mr. Ferrari, where have you been all these years?
Danny: We can't stay here all night, Peter. He could block the exit and set fire to the whole damned place!
Peter: [the survivors hear classical music start to play] He's enjoying himself! Do you realize he's enjoying himself!
Brett: [grabs Corrine jokingly by the throat] Don't worry, dear, it's only Mother. What's our bright-eyed ingénue reading now?
Brett: Oh, saints preserve us.
Corinne: It's what an actor prepares, it's fantastic.
Brett: Hmm, let me know when you get up to the part about making enough money to keep body and soul together. That's the information I can use.
[Laurel screams in background]
Brett: Oh, look at Laurel. She's a perfect example of the method; she really feels her part. Keep it up, sweetie!
[Laurel flicks him off]
Old Cop: My wife tells me I need to lose weight and she gives me spinach. Can you believe it? Spinach!
Young Cop: Your too fat anyway.
Old Cop: [flexes his arm] See that? Muscle, boy. Muscle.
Young Cop: She thinks you're Popeye.
Old Cop: Fuck Popeye.
[sees the young cop eating a donut; he looks jealous]
Ferrari: I don't see what the business of the victim seducing the killer has to do with anything.
Peter: All right, it doesn't have anything to do with anything. But can you imagine the effect on the public? The victim rapes her own murderer. It'll be sensational.
Peter: There are some people who like to fondle the dancers' asses surreptitiously backstage, and some people who like to see the aforementioned asses displayed in the blaze of the spotlight on the stage.
Peter: Lock the door, and hide the key. Go on. Do as your director says.
Peter: You know that people have a morbid curiosity about murder. And they're going to line up for blocks to see a show in which one of the actresses has been murdered by the real-life maniac in the plot!