Winston: Ray…when someone asks you if you are a god, you say yes!

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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.