Peter: What do you think, Egon?
Egon: I think this building should be condemned. There’s serious metal fatigue in all the load-bearing members, the wiring is substandard, it’s completely inadequate for our power needs, and the neighborhood is like a demilitarized zone.
Ray: Hey! Does this pole still work? (slides down a fireman’s pole) Wow. This place is great! When can we move in? You gotta try this pole! I’m gonna get my stuff. Hey! We should stay here. Tonight! Sleep here! You know, to try it out!
Peter: I think we’ll take it.
Peter: Nobody steps on a church in my town!
Dr. Peter Venkman: Ray has gone bye-bye, Egon… what’ve you got left?
Dr. Egon Spengler: Sorry, Venkman, I’m terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.
Peter: Okay…so..she’s a dog.
Dr. Raymond Stantz: My parents left me that house. I was born there!
Dr. Peter Venkman: You’re not gonna lose the house, everybody has three mortgages nowadays.
Egon: I collect spores, molds and fungus.
Egon: I feel like the floor of a taxi cab.
Ray: Everything was fine until the grid was shut down by dickless here.
Walter Peck: They caused an explosion!
Mayor: Is this true?
Peter: Yes sir, it’s true. This man has no dick.
Egon: Don’t cross the streams.
Egon: It would be bad.
Peter: I’m fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean “bad”?
Egon: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.
Raymond: Total protonic reversal.
Peter: That’s bad. Okay. Alright, important safety tip, thanks Egon.
Peter Venkman: We’ve been going about this all wrong! This Mr. Stay-Puft isn’t so bad. He’s a sailor, he’s in New York; we get this guy laid, we won’t have any trouble!
Peter: We came, we saw, we kicked its ass!
Winston: Ray…when someone asks you if you are a god, you say yes!
Ray: Symmetrical book stacking. Just like the Philadelphia mass turbulence of 1947.
Peter: You’re right, no human being would stack books like this.
Dana Barrett: I want you inside me.
Dr. Peter Venkman: It sounds like you’ve got at least two or three people in there already.
Ray: Listen! You smell something?
Venckman: Supple little minx, isn’t she?
Peter: I don’t have to take this abuse from you, I’ve got hundreds of people dying to abuse me.
Dr Ray Stantz: What he means is Old Testament, Mr. Mayor, real wrath-of-God type stuff.
Dr. Peter Venkman: Exactly.
Dr Ray Stantz: Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies. Rivers and seas boiling.
Dr. Egon Spengler: Forty years of darkness. Earthquakes, volcanoes…
Winston Zeddemore: The dead rising from the grave.
Dr. Peter Venkman: Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together – mass hysteria.
Peter: 24 hours a day, seven days a week. No job is too big, no fee is too big.
Peter Venkman: Back off, man. I’m a scientist.
Peter: This chick is toast!
Janine: I like to read a lot myself.
Egon: Print is dead.
Peter: Egon, this reminds me of the time you tried to drill a hole in your head, remember that?
Egon: That would have worked if you didn’t stop me.
Hotel guest: What are you supposed to be, some kind of cosmonaut?
Venkman: No. We’re exterimators. Somebody saw a cockroach up on twelfth.
Hotel guest: That’s gotta be some cockroach.
Venkman: Bite your head off, man.
Janine: Do you believe in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness monster and the theory of Atlantis?
Winston: Ah, if there’s a steady paycheck in it, I’ll believe anything you say.