"Passing the torch is a right of passage that can take many forms. But perhaps the least known and most surprising is the passing of a spyglass. Dear reader, there are people in the world who know no misery and woe. And they take comfort in cheerful films about twittering birds and giggling elves. There are people who know that there's always a mystery to be solved. And they take comfort in researching and writing down and important evidence. But this story is not about such people. This story is about the Baudelaires. And they are the sort of people who know that there's always something. Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small. And for this reason, I am happy to say, the Baudelaires were very fortunate indeed."

"Nothing can stop the Claw!"

"(in-credits:) Oh no. They're on to me!"

"Hey! How's it going?"

"Goodbye, Mary Poppins. Don't stay away too long."

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago, never mind how long, precisely having..."

"Play "The Garden of Love"."

"Now, where was I?"

"Dear, Charlie. I've always been more comfortable writing song lyrics than actual sentences. There's no way I can articulate what you've meant to me. Since that moment we first saw each other, or the joy you've brought me since I first saw you outside my window. Even though our time together was short, the stars have been burning for every moment of it. And the light from those moments will be shining down for the next thousand years. I hope that somehow I'll be able to look down and see you, Charlie, and all of the incredible moments just waiting for you out there. And if you need me, all you have to do is look up. And remember...I love you."

"Here you go. Knock yourself out. Oh. No good, huh? Otis, more curry. OK. Try this one. Huh? It's mozzarella and herring. You can taste the herring, right? I've got an idea for a caviar-brie swirl and peanut butter and jelly for kids. But I really want to talk about marketing. You should be our spokesperson. I know some people who've used a mouse as a spokesperson. You see, I want to turn this into the string cheese factory of tomorrow..."

"Damn, these things are fast! I'm okay! I'm okay!"

""Dear Mrs. Doubtfire, two months ago, my mom and dad decided to separate. Now they live in different houses. My brother Andrew says that we aren't to be a family anymore. Is this true? Did I lose my family? Is there anything I can do to get my parents back together? Sincerely, Katie McCormick." Oh, my dear Katie. You know, some parents, when they're angry, they get along much better when they don't live together. They don't fight all the time, and they can become better people, and much better mummies and daddies for you. And sometimes they get back together. And sometimes they don't, dear. And if they don't, don't blame yourself. Just because they don't love each other anymore, doesn't mean that they don't love you. There are all sorts of different families, Katie. Some families have one mommy, some families have one daddy, or two families. And some children live with their uncle or aunt. Some live with their grandparents, and some children live with foster parents. And some live in separate homes, in separate neighborhoods, in different areas of the country - and they may not see each other for days, or weeks, months...even years at a time. But if there's love, dear...those are the ties that bind, and you'll have a family in your heart, forever. All my love to you, poppet, you're going to be all right...bye-bye."

"Old Skip was 11, and feeble with arthritis, but he never lost that old devilish look in his eye. He made my room his own. Came across an old photo of him not long ago. His little face, with the long snout sniffing at something in the air. His tail was straight out, pointing. Eyes were flashing in some momentary excitement. He always loved to be rubbed on the back of his neck. And when I did it, he'd yawn and he'd stretch, reach out to me with his paws, as if he was trying to embrace me. I recieved a transatlantic call one day. "Skip died," Daddy said. He and my mama wrapped him in my baseball jacket. "They buried him out under our elm tree," they said. That wasn't totally true. For he really lay buried in my heart."

"And I get to tend the rabbits..."

"Roger, darling. I've got the most wonderful news."

"S-P-O-T-S!"

"It's gonna be my pleasure serving with you."

"It's the only kind he knows."

"Come on, Dottie. Let's go."

"Let's go? Don't you want to see the rest of the movie?"

"I don't have to see it, Dottie. I lived it."

"And remember, you're supposed to be invisible!"

"The body of Mrs. Arthur Appleyard, Principal of Appleyard College, was found at the base of Hanging Rock on Friday 27 March 1900. Although the exact circumstances of her death are not known, it is believed she fell while attempting to climb the rock. The search for the missing school girls and their governess continued spasmodically for the next few years without success. To this day their disappearance remains a mystery."

"So, in the end, Pinocchio did prove himself brave, honest and unselfish. And since then, many stories have been told about him. People say he was transformed into an honest-to-goodness real boy. Did that actually happen? Who knows? But I do know one thing for sure. In his heart, Pinocchio is as real as any real boy could ever be."

"Hey, kids. Daddy's home."

"Honey, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

"Hello, Mr. Griffith."

"Hello, Mrs. Page."

"(post-credits): Is this who? The winner? Oh, there's three."

"You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fooled."

"As you wish."

"I hear him. I hear him. I hear you! Josh...?!"

"I'll see you later."

"Hey, how will you know where I am?"

"I'll know."

"Walking towards that stage, I felt like I was floating. My heart was beating so fast. I didn't really understand why I was getting a medal. It's not like blew up the Death Star. All I did was get through fifth grade, just like everyone else here."

"Congrats. Here, here you go...that's for you."

"Then again, maybe that's kind of the point. Maybe the truth is, I’m really not so ordinary. Maybe if we knew what other people were thinking we'd know that no one’s ordinary, and we all deserve a standing ovation at least once in our lives. My friends do. My teachers do. My sister does for always being there for me. My dad does for always making us laugh. And my mom does the most, for never giving up, on anything. Especially, me. It's like that last precept Mr. Browne gave us. Be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle. And if you really want to see what people are, all you have to do is look."

"Thank you, Commandant Lassard, Chief Hurst, Madam Mayor, Mr. President, His Holiness The Pope, The King of Norway, and our other honored guests.""

"It's sad, when a mother has to speak the words that condemn her own son. But I couldn't allow them to believe that I would commit murder. They'll put him away now, as I should have years ago. He was always bad, and in the end he intended to tell them I killed those girls and that man...as if I could do anything but just sit and stare, like one of his stuffed birds. They know I can't move a finger, and I won't. I'll just sit here and be quiet, just in case they do... suspect me. They're probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind of a person I am. I'm not even going to swat that fly. I hope they are watching...they'll see. They'll see and they'll know, and they'll say, "Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly...""

"He has friends."

"FREEZE! Drop the fucking gun, buddy. Put the gun down! Don't do it! Drop the gun man! Don't do it! Drop the fucking gun. We're gonna fucking blow you away!"

"All right. Friends, man."

"What was that?"

"Do you want to have sex again?"

"Hell of a day."

"I love New York."