Jules: Whether or not what we experienced was an According to Hoyle miracle is insignificant. What is significant is that I felt the touch of God. God got involved.
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Jules: Whoa... whoa... whoa... stop right there. Eatin' a bitch out, and givin' a bitch a foot massage ain't even the same fuckin' thing.Comment
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Vincent: Not the same thing, the same ballpark.Comment
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Jules: It ain't no fuckin' ballpark either. Now look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but touchin' his wife's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her holyiest of holies, ain't the same ballpark, it ain't the same league, it ain't even the same fuckin' sport. Foot massages don't mean shit.Comment
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Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage?Comment
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Jules: Don't be tellin' me about foot massages - I'm the foot fuckin' master.Comment
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Vincent: Given a lot of 'em?Comment
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Jules: Shit yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be tickling or nothin'.Comment
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Vincent: Would you give a guy a foot massage?Comment
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Jules: Fuck you.Comment
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Vincent: You give them a lot?Comment
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Vincent: You know, I'm getting kinda tired, I could use a foot massage.Comment
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Jules: Man, you best back off, I'm gittin' pissed.Comment
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Jimmie: I'm gonna get fuckin' divorced. No marriage counselling, no trial separation, I'm gonna get fuckin' divorced.Comment
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Yolanda: Any of you fuckin' pricks move, and I'll execute every mother fuckin' last one of ya.Comment
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Vincent: And you know what they call a... a... a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?Comment
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Jules: They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with cheese?Comment
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Vincent: No man, they got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.Comment
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Jules: Then what do they call it?Comment
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Vincent: They call it a "Royale" with cheese.Comment
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Jules: A "Royale" with cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?Comment
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Vincent: Well, a Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it "le Big-Mac".Comment
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Jules: "Le Big-Mac". Ha ha ha ha. What do they call a Whopper?Comment
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Vincent: I dunno, I didn't go into Burger King.Comment
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Jules: We should have shotguns for this kind of deal.Comment
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Vincent: How many up there?Comment
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Jules: Three or four.Comment
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Vincent: That's countin' our guy?Comment
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Jules: Not sure.Comment
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Vincent: So that means there could be up to five guys up there?Comment
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Jules: It's possible.Comment
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Vincent: We should have fuckin' shotguns.Comment
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[after Butch saves Marsellus from rapists]Comment
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Butch: You okay?Comment
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Marsellus: Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay.Comment
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Butch: What now?Comment
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Marsellus: What now? Let me tell you what now. I'ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin' hahahahahahas, who'll go to work on the homes here with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass.Comment
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Butch: I meant what now between me and you?Comment
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Marsellus: Oh, that "what now." I tell you what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more.Comment
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Jules: Now Yolanda, we're not gonna do anything stupid, are we?Comment
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Yolanda: You don't hurt him.Comment
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Jules: Nobody's gonna hurt anybody. We're gonna be like three little Fonzies here. And what's Fonzie like? Come on Yolanda what's Fonzie like?Comment
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Yolanda: Cool?Comment
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Jules: What?Comment
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Yolanda: He's cool.Comment
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Jules: Correctamundo. And that's what we're gonna be. We're gonna be cool. Now Ringo, I'm gonna count to three, and when I count three, you let go of your gun, and sit your ass down. But when you do it, you do it cool. Ready? One... two... three.Comment
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[Ringo sits down opposite Jules]Comment
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Yolanda: All right, now you let him go.Comment
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Jules: Yolanda, I thought you said you were gonna be cool. Now when you yell at me, it makes me nervous. And when I get nervous, I get scared. And when motherfuckers get scared, that's when motherfuckers accidentally get shot. But I don't want that. And you don't want that. And Ringo here *definitely* doesn't want that.Comment
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Yolanda: You just know, you touch him, you die.Comment
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