Jeremy:
So why do you stay in Brooklyn?

Eliot:
Queens. I stay in Queens.

Jeremy:
Oh, right. Sorry. It's just that your friends... they're like those guys in movies that are always from Brooklyn, you know? The Bronx.

Jeremy:
Why do you keep running away from me? There's nothing to be afraid of.

Eliot:
I'm not running away from you. I don't like you. I don't like what you say, and I don't like the way you talk about my friends. I know what you're thinking: here's this poor, repressed faggot from the boroughs who needs to get laid, and you know what? You're right. But I don't like you. And if you follow me back into that party, I'm gonna tear off your arm and beat you down the fucking street with it. Goodbye, and goodnight.

Grace:
You're a little tense, don't you think?

Al:
Who wouldn't be tense? This music could make Will Rogers punch a nun.

Al:
Come on, what do I gotta do?

Patricia:
You could crawl through broken glass on your hands and knees with a sign on your back that says "asshole." That might get you in the door.