Dick: Look at this. I could write a better book overnight.
Nina: You think you're the smartest man on the planet, don't you?
Dick: For the thousandth time, yes!

Nina: Dr. Solomon, have you bought Strudwick's new book yet?
Dick: Well, I was gonna order it off the Internet until I realized there's no such thing as Amazon.crap. Look at him, standing up there like all of this was for him.
Nina: All this is for him.
Dick: Fine. But he doesn't have to bask. Look at him basking. That basker!
Nina: You're just jealous because he got a book published and you didn't.
Dick: Jealous? [chuckles] Of his little comic book? That's a hoot and a half.
Nina: Well, those four Nobel laureates over there kissing his butt seem to disagree.
Mary: So, where are the Nobel guys?
Dick: Oh, they're over there with Strudwick. But they're not so great. One of them had to share his prize with a Swede.

Harry: Every expert in the country's gonna be dyin' to know how you figured all this out.
Dick: You think?
Harry: Oh, and the fame. I can't wait to see Barbara Walters make you cry.
Dick: Barbara Walters?
Harry: Yep. Grillin' you about your childhood on national television.
Dick: [stammers] But I- I never had a childhood.
Harry: Oh, you don't have to tell me. A boy grows up awful fast on the mean streets of, uh... Where are you from again?
Dick: Outer space! [throws manuscript in the trash] What was I thinking?! If I publish all the secrets of the universe, we might just as well walk into the Pentagon and yell out, "We're aliens!"
Harry: Oh, yeah. That would be quite a predicament. [shouts] You idiot!