Make a Movie/TV reference

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Its intermission! Quick! Hide your faces! They'll tear us to pieces!

The reluctant gentleman with the sizeable mouth is Mr. Frisby. He has all the drive of a broken camshaft and the aggressive vinegar of a corpse. As you've no doubt gathered, his big stock in trade is the tall tale. Now, what he doesn't know is that the visitors out front are a very special breed, destined to change his life beyond anything even his fertile imagination could manufacture. The place is Pitchville Flats, the time is the present. But Mr. Frisby's on the first leg of a rather fanciful journey into the place we call the Twilight Zone.

YOU have business cards? You're a Stormtrooper. There's like a million of you. What do you need business cards for?

he's got some kind of death sound!

This is a Mak'Gora, we will respect our tradition. Keep fighting!

that man is missing a few of his buttons

It's not milk time

Quitting time at the plant. Time for supper now. Time for families. Time for a cool drink on a porch. Time for the quiet rustle of leaf-laden trees that screen out the moon, and underneath it all, behind the eyes of the men, hanging invisible over the summer night, is a horror without words. For this is the stillness before storm. This is the eve of the end.

Yes, obviously.

Mr. Chambers! Don't get on that ship! The rest of the book, "To Serve Man", it's - it's a cookbook!

Keep looking at me. It helps to keep my soul from flying off.

He said the world was an inferno full of darkness and evil, and that there were only two ways of dealing with it. The first was easy and wrong: to accept it and become part of it. The second way was harder and right: you fight it, and recognize those who aren't evil, and help them endure.

You are a CPA. A Certified Public ***hole.

In times long past, this planet was the home of a mighty, noble race of beings who called themselves the Krell. Ethically and technologically they were a million years ahead of humankind, for in unlocking the mysteries of nature they had conquered even their baser selves, and when in the course of eons they had abolished sickness and insanity, crime and all injustice, they turned, still in high benevolence, upwards towards space. Then, having reached the heights, this all-but-divine race perished in a single night, and nothing was preserved above ground.

Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Well, boys, we got three engines out, we got more holes in us than a horse trader's mule, the radio is gone and we're leaking fuel and if we was flying any lower why we'd need sleigh bells on this thing... but we got one little budge on them Rooskies. At this height why they might harpoon us but they dang sure ain't gonna spot us on no radar screen!