Prison officer: One Timex digital watch – broken. One unused prophylactic. (pulls out a pair of tweezers and reaches into the box with them) One soiled.

Prison Officer: One hat...black.

The "Penguin": You two are such a disappointing pair. I prayed so hard for you. It saddens and hurts me to think that the two boys I raised to believe in The Ten Commandments have returned to me as thieves, with filthy mouths and bad attitudes! GET OUT, and DON'T COME BACK...until you've redeemed yourselves.

Curtis: Boys, you gotta learn not to talk to nuns that way.

Old man at Elwood's apartment: You got my Cheez Whiz, boy?

Trooper: [repeated line] They broke my watch!

Alan "Mr. Fabulous" Rubin: [As Maitre'd at the Chez Paul restaurant, talking to a caller on the phone] No, sir, Mayor Daley no longer dines here, sir. He's dead, sir.

Mrs. Murphy: We got two honkies out there dressed like Hasidic diamond merchants.

Mrs. Murphy: The BLUES BROTHERS?! Shiiiiiit! They still owe you money, fool!

Donald "Duck" Dunn: We had a band powerful enough to turn goat piss into gasoline.

Ray: Pardon me, but we have a strict policy concerning the handling of the instruments. An employee of Ray's Music Exchange must be present. Now, may I help you?

Ray: [to a little boy who tried to steal a guitar and who he pulled a gun on and missed purposely] Now go on, get.

Claire: [When asked what music is played at Bob's Country Bunker] Oh we got both kinds. We got Country and Western.

Bob: [Hearing the band playing a rhythm and blues song] That ain't no Hank Williams song!

Burton Mercer: Who wants an Orange Whip? Orange Whip? Orange Whip? Three Orange Whips.

The Mystery Woman: [to Jake] You contemptible pig! I remained celibate for you. I stood at the back of a cathedral, waiting, in celibacy, for you, with three hundred friends and relatives in attendance. My uncle hired the best Romanian caterers in the state. To obtain the seven limousines for the wedding party, my father used up his last favor with Mad Pete Trullo. So for me, for my mother, my grandmother, my father, my uncle, and for the common good, I must now kill you, and your brother.

Police Dispatcher: Use of unnecessary violence in apprehension of the Blues Brothers... has been approved.

Neo-Nazi: [To his leader, as they both face certain death] I've always loved you.

[Jake and Elwood are arguing about the new Bluesmobile]
Jake: What is this?
Elwood: What's what?
Jake: (pause) This car. This stupid car. Where's the Cadillac? (Throws cigarette lighter out the window) The Caddy, where's the Caddy?
Elwood The what?
Jake: The Cadillac we used to have! The Bluesmobile!
Elwood Traded it.
Jake: You traded the Bluesmobile for this peice of shit?
Elwood: No ... for a microphone.
Jake: A microphone? [Pause] Okay, I can see that. But what the hell is this?
Elwood: I picked it up at the Mount Prospect police auction last spring. It's an old Mount Prospect police car. They were practically giving them away.
Jake: Well thank you, pal. The day I get out of prison, my own brother comes to pick me up in a police car.
Elwood You don't like it?
Jake (Very long pause) No, I don't like it.

Elwood: It's a hundred and six miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses.
Jake: Hit it.

[The Bluesmobile has just jumped an open drawbridge.]
Jake: Car's got a lot of pickup.
Elwood: It's got a cop motor, a 440-cubic-inch plant. It's got cop tires, cop suspension, cop shocks. It's a model made before catalytic converters so it'll run good on regular gas. So what do you say, is it the new Bluesmobile or what?
Jake: Fix the cigarette lighter.

Curtis: You boys could use some churchin' up. Slide on down to the Triple Rock and catch Rev. Cleophus.
Jake: Curtis, I don't need some jive-ass preacher talkin' to me about heaven and hell!
Curtis: Jake...you get wise...you get to church!

Elwood: Shit.
Jake: What?
Elwood: Rollers. [police car]
Jake: No?
Elwood: Yep.
Jake: Shit.

Jake: God-damn it!
Elwood: Man, I haven't been pulled over in six months. I'll bet those police cops have got SCMODS.
Jake: SCMODS...?
Elwood: State County Municipal Offender Data System.

Jake: First you trade the Cadilac for a microphone, then you lie to me about the band, and now you're gonna put me right back in the joint!
Elwood: They're not gonna catch us. We're on a mission from God!

Elwood: Well, it ain't much, but it's home.
Jake: How often does the train go by?
Elwood: So often you won't even notice it.

Jake: How you gonna get the band back together, Mr Hot-Rodder? Mr Motor Head? The cops got your name, your address!
Elwood: No, they don't got my address. I falsified my renewal. Put down 1060 West Addison.
Jake: 1060 West Addison? (pause) That's Wrigley Field!

Mrs. Tarantino: Are you the police?
Elwood: No, ma'am. We're musicians.

Jake: Four fried chickens and a Coke.
Elwood: And some dry white toast please.

Mrs. Murphy: We got two honkies out there, dressed like Hasidic diamond merchants.
Matt "Guitar" Murphy: Say what?
Mrs. Murphy: They look like they're from the CIA, or somethin'.
Matt "Guitar" Murphy: What they want to eat?
Mrs. Murphy: The tall one wants white toast, dry, with nothin' on it.
Matt "Guitar" Murphy: Elwood.
Mrs. Murphy: And the short one wants four whole fried chickens, and a Coke.
Matt "Guitar" Murphy: And Jake. Shit, the Blues Brothers!

[Held up by a Nazi parade]
Jake: [To a patrolling officer] Hey, what's going on?
Police Officer: Ah, those bums won their court case so they're marching today.
Jake: What bums?
Police Officer: The fucking Nazi party.
Elwood: Illinois Nazis!
Jake: I hate Illinois Nazis.
[The Blues Brothers promptly drive through the parade, forcing the Nazis to dive into the river].

Elwood: It's 106 miles to Chicago. We've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses.
Jake: Hit it.

Police Chief: [after his car flies over a hill and lands in a truck] What car are we?
Trooper: Five-five.
Police Chief: [to the CB radio] Hi! This is car fifty-five...and...uh, we're in a truck!

Jake: Ma'am, would it make you feel any better if we told you that what we're asking Matthew to do is a holy thing?
Elwood: You see, we're on a mission from God.
Mrs. Murphy: Don't you blaspheme in here! Don't you blaspheme in here! This is my man, this is my restaurant, and you two are gonna turn around and walk right out of here - without your dry white toast, without your four fried chickens, and without Matt 'Guitar' Murphy!