“I like Art Vandelay.” “Art Vandelay?” “He’s an obscure writer. Beatnik. From the village.” “What’s he written?” “Venetian Blinds.”

A donation has been made in your name to the Human Fund. The Human Fund. Money for people.

Cheapness is not a sense.

“I’ve been living a lie.” “Just one? I’m living like twenty.”

“I don’t trust men in capes.”

“I’ve been lying about my income for a few years. I figured I could afford a fake house in the Hamptons.”

“A man without hand is not a man. I’ve got so much hand I’m coming out of my gloves.”

“If I like their race, how can that be racist?”

“I never feel comfortable in the women’s department. I feel like I’m just a little too close to trying on a dress.”

“Are you Master of your Domain?” “I am King of the County. You?” “Lord of the Manor.” “I’m Queen of the castle!”

’I’m in the unfortunate position of having to consider other people’s feelings’

“Was that wrong? Should I not have done that?”

“Newman never stops seeing anybody. Newman will see whoever is willing to see him.”

You find yourself in the kitchen. You see an clair, in the receptacle. And you think to yourself, “What the hell, I’ll just eat some trash.”

Jerry, Newman and I are engaged in a epic struggle for world domination. It’s winner take all. People cannot be trusted.

“I don’t get these birds. They’re breaking the deal. It’s like the pigeons decided to ignore me.” “So they’re like everyone else.”

“I think I’ve reached a point in my life where I can tell the difference between nougat and cookie.”

“Why do I always have the feeling everybody’s doing something better than me on Saturday afternoons?”

“His buttocks are sublime.”

“I would like to dip my bald head in oil and rub it all over your body.