Rebecca: I tried not to look, but the rearview mirror was just huge, and I couldn't help it. And then I got so upset, I just wrapped the company limo around a 7-Eleven.
Sam: Well, that is dreadful. Very, very, very sad.
Rebecca: [sighs] And then Evan and his cheap imitation Geisha bimbo whore grabbed a taxi. While I had to stand there and wait for a tow truck. Oh, and then this cop came along, and he asked me to see my chauffeur's license. God, if only I'd had one. Or if only I'd remembered to bring my purse with my own driver's license. Or if only I'd resisted arrest and he just shot me dead.

Rebecca: Sam, I will never have Mr. Drake. I will never have any man. I will just dry up, crumble into dust and blow away.
Sam: Oh, come on. That doesn't sound like you. That sounds like some lovesick self-pitying, whiny... No, that's you all right.

Sam: But I'm not gonna let you give up.
Rebecca: What do you care? What does anybody care?
Sam: Listen, I pride myself in being a connoisseur of beautiful babes, and I'll tell you. I'm not gonna sit by and watch a great woman like you going to waste. It's like, a- a thoroughbred pulling a milk wagon. It's like a rare wine... pulling a milk wagon.