C.C. Baxter

— Can I ask you a personal question?
— No.
— You got a girlfriend?
— She may be a girl but she is no friend of mine.

— The mirror... It's broken.
— Yes, I know. I like it that way. Makes me look the way I feel.

— Where'll we go? My place or yours?
— Might as well go to mine. Everybody else does.

You know, I used to live like Robinson Crusoe. Shipwrecked, among eight million people. And then one day I saw a footprint in the sand... and there you were.

— Well, I don't wanna gloat, but just between us, you had it coming to you. You're gonna have a shiner tomorrow. Let me get my bag.
— Don't bother, Doc. It doesn't hurt a bit.

— What do you call it when somebody keeps gettin' smashed up in car accidents?
— Bad insurance risk?
— That's me with men. I was jinxed from the word go. First time I was ever kissed was in a cemetery.