Colonel:I'll see you in hell, little girl. Wear something nasty.
Colonel:He's your ah, marito? My apologies. I am not the kind of man that sleeps with a married woman. No.
[shoots them both dead]
Colonel:Oh, but their daughters. Oh, that's a completely different matter.
Ronald:You've done good on this garden - for a laundry man.
Yang:You do good shooting - for a drunken man.
Ronald:If you truly love something or somebody, laundry man, you get as far away from 'em as possible. Cause we're sand, they're flowers.
Lynne:You are going to take me for a spin, or what?
Saddest Flute:You came to me to be strong, I have made you the strongest.
Ronald:Okay, you settled down? You got your ears open?
Ronald:This is the story of the sad flute, a laughing baby, a weeping sword. A long long time ago, in a land far far away, there lived a warrior. A warrior with empty eyes.
Ronald:[narrating]The warrior learned there's a heck of a lot more pleasure making things grow, than there is in cutting them down.
Lynne:[throwing knives blindfolded]You dead?
Yang:We are called sad flutes because when you cut the throat, the last sound is like a sad flute.
Lynne:Dang! Skinny, you sure know how to throw a dang cat in a party room, don't cha.
Lynne:I've been waiting my whole life for a place where it's right to be wrong.
Lynne:By saving me we've ruined every new thing you've found here.
Yang:This new world without you, not so new.
Lynne:That sure is a pretty scar I gave *you*.
Saddest Flute:Is this the new life you have found? Funny, look much like the old one.
Lynne:Do we win?
Yang:We survived. Some of us.
Yang:[frozen fish to the eye]Free.