“Get the hell down here!” the bride shouted. “You’re stealing my thunder.”
“Good grief, Fury, warn me if you’re going to jump in here naked. (Bride)”
“Rochester: My bride is here, because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?”
“Good girl, Rachel. Now, let’s get the hell out of here. Your mother has a headache that won’t quit until you’re twenty-one”
“Don’t steal because it’s immoral, not because you’re afraid you’ll get caught.”
“Time to sit down," Fred told Harry, "Or we're going to get run over by the bride.”