Annie Savoy: There’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring, which makes it like sex.
Crash Davis: Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman’s back, the hangin’ curveball, high fibre, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.
Crash Davis: Come on meat, show me that million dollar arm of yours cause I got a good idea about that five cent head.
Annie Savoy: Listen, sweetheart, you shouldn’t listen to what a woman says when she’s in the throes of passion. They say the darndest things.
Ebby Calvin LaLoosh: Yeah, you said “Crash”!
Annie Savoy: Honey, would you rather I were making love to him using your name, or making love to you using his name?
Ebby Calvin LaLoosh: Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes, it rains.
Annie: The world is made for people who aren’t cursed with self-awareness.
Skip: You guys. You lollygag the ball around the infield. You lollygag your way down to first. You lollygag in and out of the dugout. You know what that makes you? Larry!