Edgar: I go out, I work my butt off to make a living, all I want is to come
home to a nice clean house with a nice fat steak on the table, but instead I get
this. It looks like poison. Don't you take that away, I'm eating that, damn it!
It is poison, isn't it? I swear to God I would not be surprised if it was, the
way you skulk around here like a dog that's been hit too much or ain't been hit
enough, I can't make up my mind. You're useless, Beatrice! The only thing that
pulls its weight around here is my goddamn truck!
[Flying saucer smashes truck]
Kay: I want you off this rock on the next transport or I'm gonna shoot you where
it don't grow back.
Zed: We're not hosting an intergalactic kegger down here.
Dr. Weaver: What's with the cat?
Cop in Morgue: Well, there's a problem with the cat. Sign here.
Dr. Weaver: [signing] What's the problem with the cat?
Cop in Morgue: It's your problem.
Kay: All right, Beatrice, there was no alien. The flash of light you saw in the
sky was not a UFO. Swamp gas from a weather balloon was trapped in a thermal
pocket and reflected the light from Venus.
Jay: Wait a minute. You just flash that thing, it erases her memory, and you
just make up a new one?
Kay: A standard issue neuralyzer.
Jay: And that weak-ass story's the best you can come up with?
[To candidates rejected as MIB agents]
Zed: Gentlemen, congratulations. You're everything we've come to expect from
years of government training.
Zed: You'll dress only in attire specially sanctioned by MiB special services.
You'll conform to the identity we give you, eat where we tell you, live where we
tell you. From now on you'll have no identifying marks of any kind. You'll not
stand out in any way. Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory
with anyone you encounter. You're a rumor, recognizable only as deja vu and
dismissed just as quickly. You don't exist; you were never even born. Anonymity
is your name. Silence your native tongue. You're no longer part of the System.
You're above the System. Over it. Beyond it. We're "them." We're
"they." We are the Men in Black.
Bug: Put your projectile weapon on the ground.
Edgar: You can have my gun when you pry it from my cold dead hands.
Bug: Your proposition is acceptable.
Bug: Ever pull the wing off a fly? Care to see the fly get even?
Jay: Why don't ya go down to Bloomingdales and get some make-up, clothes,
manicure, and a facial. Oh and you better hire a decorator to come in here,
Jay: Why the big secret? People are smart, they can handle it.
Kay: A *person* is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you
Jay: Zed, don't you guys ever get any sleep around here?
Zed: The twins keep us on Centaurian time, standard thirty-seven hour day. Give
it a few months. You'll get used to it ...or you'll have a psychotic episode.
Kay: Set for pulsar level five, subsonic implosion factor two.
Kay: Just shoot the damn thing!
Kay: There are approximately 1500 aliens in Manhattan.
Jay: Cab drivers?
Kay: Not as many as you think.
Kay: Arquillian battle rules: first we get an ultimatum, then a warning shot,
then a galactic standard week to respond.
Jay: A galactic standard week? How long is that?
Kay: One hour.
Edwards: Freeze means stop!
Jay: There's only one way off this planet and that's through me!
Jay: Did you ever flashy-thing me?
Jay: I ain't playing, K. Did you ever flashy-thing me?
Dr. Weaver: I hate the living.
Jay: We should contact Dennis Rodman, he's from that planet.
Elle: Rodman? You're kidding! ...Not a very good disguise.
Jay: You know the difference between you and me? I make this look good.
Kay: Raise your hands -- and all of your flippers.
Kay: These are our two Centaurian communictions board operators, Woiebgck and
Beatrice: You here to make fun of me too?
Kay: No, ma'am. We at the FBI do not have a sense of humor we're aware of. May
we come in?
Kay: 1500 years ago, everybody "knew" that the earth was the center of
the universe. 500 years ago, everybody "knew" that the earth was flat.
And 15 minutes ago, you "knew" that humans were alone on this planet.
Imagine what you'll "know" tomorrow.
[J has just jumped from a bridge onto a tour bus]
Jay: It just be raining black people in New York!
Jay: This has GOT to be a nine-point-oh on my weird-shit-o-meter.
James Edwards: NYPD means I will Nock Yo Punkass Down!
[Bug takes Dr.Weaver with him into the flying saucer]
Edgar: You're coming with me. It's a long trip. I'll need a snack.
Jay: You do know Elvis is dead, right?
Kay: No, Elvis is not dead. He just went home.
Kay: You sold a reverberating carbonizer with mutate capacity to an unlicensed
cephalopoid, Jeebs, you piece of shit!
Jeebs: He looked all right to me.
Kay: I've just been down the gut of an interstellar cockroach. That's one of a
million memories I don't want.
Kay: Imagine a giant cockroach, with unlimited strength, a massive inferiority
complex, and a real short temper, is tear-assing around Manhattan in a brand-new
Edgar suit. That sound like fun to you?
Jay: Unlimited technology from the whole universe, and we cruise 'round in a
Kay: See ya around, Jay.
Jay: No, you won't.
Kay: Did he say anything to you?
James Edwards: Yeah, that the world is coming to an end.
Kay: Did he say when?
Jay: (stepping on an insect) Oh, was that your auntie? Then that must be your
uncle over there.
[In a shooting range, confronted with numerous menacing-looking targets, Edwards
shoots a cardboard little girl.]
Zed: May I ask why you felt little Tiffany deserved to die?
James Edwards: Well, she was the only one that actually seemed dangerous at the
Zed: How'd you come to that conclusion?
James Edwards: Well, first I was gonna pop this guy hanging from the street
light, and I realized, y'know, he's just working out. I mean, how would I feel
if somebody come runnin' in the gym and bust me in my ass while I'm on the
treadmill? Then I saw this snarling beast guy, and I noticed he had a tissue in
his hand, and I'm realizing, y'know, he's not snarling, he's sneezing! Y'know,
ain't no real threat there. Then I saw little Tiffany. I'm thinking, y'know,
eight-year-old white girl, middle of the ghetto, bunch of monsters, this time of
night with quantum physics books? She about to start some shit, Zed. She's about
eight years old, those books are WAY too advanced for her. If you ask me, I'd
say she's up to something. And to be honest, I'd appreciate it if you eased up
off my back about it. Or do I owe her an apology?