Sally: Oh, my God, you guys. What am I gonna do about Don? I can't leave him the pathetic muffin-making mess that he is.
Tommy: Ah, pipe down. You knew the mission was gonna end. Now it's ending. Get it together.
Sally: Okay, see, here it comes. Why do you always get like this when missions come to an end?
Dick: Yeah, good-bye, teenager. Hello, crotchety old man.
Tommy: Ah, pinch your mouth shut.

Tommy: Did you finish the party plan?
Harry: Oh, yeah. Check it out.
Tommy: What is this?
Harry: What?
Tommy: "Music: A.M. radio. Food: fancy mixed nuts. Paper napkins?" This is pathetic, man. If we have to throw a party, let's at least do it right.
Harry: Dude, we are broke! We have been broke for six years.
Tommy: Okay. We'll charge it. Max out our credit cards.
Harry: Well, we can do that?
Tommy: Yeah. By the time they send us the bill, we'll be in another galaxy thirty trillion miles away.
Harry: I don't know why everybody doesn't do that.

Tommy: Yeah, okay, but the point is that every time I see you, it could be the last time. You know, every kiss could be our last kiss.
Alissa: Tommy, did a rat bite you?
Tommy: Alissa Strudwick... will you marry me?
Alissa: Shut up.
Tommy: No. Marry me.
Alissa: No, get up off the floor.
Tommy: Okay, well, if we're gonna get married, you're gonna have to stop bossing me around.
Alissa: Shut up!