Ottilie Giesecke: "We women love bastards. We're only happy being unhappy."
Leopold Brandmeyer: "That doesn't make any sense at all."
Ottilie Giesecke: "We're talking about the female brain here."

Architect: "Mr. Blume, how are Ronny and Donny enjoying military school?"
Herman Blume: "They love it."
Magnus Buchan: "Lucky bastards."

Smith: "I move my finger one inch to use my turn signal. Why are these assholes so lazy they can't move their finger one fucking measly inch to drive more safely? You wanna know why?"
Donna: "Not particularly."
Smith: "Because these rich bastards have to be callous and inconsiderate in the first place to make all that money, so when they get on the road, they can't help themselves. They've gotta be callous and inconsiderate drivers too. It's in their nature."

"You stupid, ignorant son of a bitch, dumb bastard. Jesus Christ. I've met some dumb bastards in my time but you outdo them all."

Mike Rezendes: "Six percent is 90."
Walter Robinson: "90 priests?"
Ben Bradlee Jr.: "If there were 90 of these bastards, people would know."
Mike Rezendes: "Maybe they do."

Newt: "Hear that? It's the maze, changing. It changes every night.
Thomas: How is that even possible?"
Newt: "You can ask the people who put us in here, if you ever meet the bastards. Listen the truth is... The Runners are the only ones who really know what's out there. They are the strongest and the fastest of us all. And it's a good thing, too... Because if they don't make it back before those doors close... Then they are stuck out there for the night. And no one has ever survived a night in the maze."
Thomas: "What happens to them?"
Newt: "Well, we call 'em Grievers. Of course, no one's ever seen one and lived to tell about it. But they're out there."

Ava: I have to finish this... 'When all the bastards are gone and dead, only then rest your head'."
Manny: "That's cheery."

"A bastard's work is never done."

"You only need to hang mean bastards, but mean bastards you need to hang."

"The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post don't know anything more about real battle than they do about fornicating."

"In ten days I'll have a war on with those Communist bastards, and I'll make it look like their fault."

"Now, I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastards die for his country."

Percy Wetmore: "You switched 'em. You switched 'em somehow, you bastards."
Brutus Howell: "Yeah I always keep a spare mouse in my wallet for occasions such as this."

"Do you smell it? It's the smell of bastards. It's also the smell of truth."

Bill: "He'll accept you as his student."
The Bride: "Caught him in a good mood, aye?"
Bill: "More like a sadistic one. Just seeing those steps again makes me ache. You're gonna have plenty of fun carrying buckets of water up and down that fucker."
The Bride: "Why did he accept me?"
Bill: "Because he's a very very very old man. And like all rotten bastards, when they get old, they become lonely. Not that that has any effect on their disposition. But they do learn the value of company."

"Those bastards fired the man who found it. Kurston. He was a good man. Gave his life to his job, just like the rest of us here. They fired him. He killed himself. They fired me. They fired men like flushing shit down a toilet. Well... this time the shit is fighting back."