Early Edition (1996–2000)
Gary Hobson: Sometimes that's all a hero is, Chuck - the guy who's there.
Chuck: Some dances you sit out. Others, you change partners. The important thing is, you never stop dancing.
Chuck Fishman: [voice over] The trick is to assume your life is going to work out. Of course, it never does, so you do the next best thing: you take it one disaster at a time.
Gary Hobson: Marissa, what do you say I make us both dinner?
Marissa Clark: Sure, why not.
Gary Hobson: The three of us.
[the cat meows]
Gary Hobson: All right, dinner for four.
Chuck Fishman: [voice over] So maybe that's the secret, when you get right down to it: treat every day like it was your last, or your best.
Chuck Fishman: [voice over] It's easy to be cynical. Especially today, when it looks like all our heroes are crooks, our role models frauds. Every now and again, however, when you least expect it, the real thing comes along: someone who can find the heart inside the cynic and give those who hold nothing sacred something to believe in. It's not always easy telling the good from the bad, even if you do get tomorrow's paper today. Why, is why. Sometimes, to find the answers, you have to look in your heart.
Chuck Fishman: [voice over] There's all kind of courage out there. Hey, that person standing next to you on the subway car, in the supermarket, take a closer look next time. Who knows, it might be you're standing next to a hero.
Chuck Fishman: You know, that's just like you. Heaven passes right under your nose and you don't even blink.
Chuck Fishman: See, I have this thing about snakes. It"s called 'fear of death."
Chuck Fishman: But you get tomorrow's newspaper, which, may I add, is a real ice-breaker.
Gary: I can baby-sit or whatever it is you do with an eight year old.
Marissa: Gary, you don't even like kids.
Gary: I do too like kids. From a distance, they're all right.
Gary: You know, sometimes when people get older, they lose a little faith.
Henry: But, if you lose it, can they get it back?
Gary: I'm working on it, kid.
Seller: Sun-Times! Get your Sun-Times here!
[Gary walks past]
Seller: Hey, Mister! Latest edition!
Gary: That's what you think kid.
Gary: [yelling at the cat] What is this, huh? I come in down here to turn off one lousy circuit breaker, the next thing I know I'm in 1929. There's gangsters running around. They're trying to kill me. And don't think I don't know you're involved in this! I tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna turn this lamp off, do you hear me? I'm gonna turn this lamp off and when I turn it back on, I want to be in my own time. Do we understand each other?"
[Gary turns lamp off]
[Gary turns lamp on and nothing has changed]
Gary: Well, that's just great!
Gary: Opportunity doesn't knock, it presents itself when you beat down the door.
Detective Toni Brigatti: Come on Paul, this is Gary Hobson we're talking about. He's more peanut butter and jelly than Jekyll and Hyde.
Gary: Well that's because you always tell me that you don't wanna know what I know that I'm not supposed to know.
Gary: Look, isn't there any way you can just stamp me as not crazy and let me get outta here?
Chuck: Why are we here? I hated college. Deadlines, term papers, cram study sessions, stupid touch football games, dorms, ugh, communal showers, toilets with no doors, waking up in the middle of the night, drunk, in the parking lot, naked.
Gary: I don't remember that.
Chuck: You know what? Since we have graduated, I do not even remotely miss anything about college.
[a pretty girl walks by and looks at them]
Chuck: I stand corrected.
Detective Toni Brigatti: I put two and two together and I got Hobson.
Chuck: They say things happen for a reason, but that reason may not always be clear. In time, with faith, the meaning may emerge. What was, what is, what shall be. Pieces of a puzzle, falling into place.
[Gary keeps trying to stop a wedding]
F.B.I. Agent: You take one step into that church and you're going to jail.
Gary: For what?
F.B.I. Agent: For being pathetic.
Lois Hobson: Chuck, I have this condition; the doctors call it 'Crap Intolerance'. I can only take so much BS before I explode.
[sound of paper landing on floor outside door]