Bobby Jay Bliss : It was some pretty fucked up shit.

BR: We don't sell Tic Tacs, for Christ's sake, we sell cigarettes. And they're cool, available, and addictive. The job is almost done for us.

Doak "The Captain" Boykin: You're family now. Tobacco takes care of its own.

Heather Holloway: My other interviews have pinned you as a mass murderer, blood sucker, pimp, profiteer and my personal favorite, yuppie Mephistopheles.

Joey Naylor: It's like you always said, Dad, "If you want an easy job, go work for the Red Cross."

Senator Ortolan Finistirre: The great state of Vermont will not apologize for its cheese.

Jack: Hey, Neil! Neil! I'm going to impale your mom on a spike and feed her dead body to my dog with syphilis!
Neil: Ha, you got me!
[Jack turns back to Joey and Nick, who both look confused.]
Jack: It's an inside joke.

Jeff Megall: Sony has a futuristic sci-fi movie they're looking to make.
Nick Naylor: Cigarettes in space?
Jeff Megall: It's the final frontier, Nick.
Nick Naylor: But wouldn't they blow up in an all-oxygen environment?
Jeff Megall: [Long pause] Probably. But, you know, it's an easy fix. One line of dialogue: "Thank God we created the, you know, whatever device."

Joey: What happens when you're wrong?
Nick Naylor: See, Joey, that's the beauty of argument. When you argue correctly, you're never wrong.

Joey: Why did you tell that reporter all your secrets?
Nick: You're too young to understand.
Joey: Mom says it's because you have dependency issues and it was all just a matter of time before you threw it all away on some tramp.
Nick: Well, that's one theory.

Joey: You're The Sultan of Spin!
Nick: "The Sultan of Spin"?
Joey: Mom subscribes to Newsweek.

Nick Naylor: I speak on behalf of cigarettes.
Child: My mommy says that cigarettes kill.
Nick Naylor: Now, is your mommy a doctor?
Child: No.
Nick Naylor: A scientific researcher of some kind?
Child: No.
Nick Naylor: Now, she doesn't exactly sound like a credible expert now, does she?
Child: [sinks back into her chair]

Nick Naylor: Jeff, when do you sleep?
Jeff Megall: Sunday.

Nick Naylor: Now, what we need is a smoking role model, a real winner.
Jeff Megall: Indiana Jones meets Jerry Maguire.
Nick Naylor: Right, on two packs a day.

Nick: What?
Bobby: I got a call from the paper.
Nick: Really? What they want?
Bobby: They wanted to correct spelling of my name and job title.
Polly: You didn't tell her about us, did you?
Nick: Who? … Heather? No! … I mean, maybe in passing.
Polly: In passing.
Bobby: Oh God, he fucked her. I tried to warn you …
Polly: Hey, he didn't fuck her. You didn't fuck her, did you? … When?
Bobby: In passing.
Nick: Look, she's a really nice girl.
Bobby: Oh God, we're really fucked.