A committment-phobic man goes in search of a bride including his fed up girlfriend, to inherit his grandfather's $100 million inheritance.

[while listening to love song from Titanic]
Natalie: What kind of dumb bitch lets Leonardo DiCaprio drown?
Anne: Nat, mind your own business
Marco: [to Jimmie] Your birthday is soon, right? Like next week?
Jimmie: No, it's not next week.
Marco: Thank God.
Jimmie: It's tomorrow.
[after Jimmie is rejected by his ex-girlfriend Stacey]
Jimmie: She's engaged.
Marco: Engaged, or married? Because if she's only engaged...
Roy O'Dell: Time for desperate measures. What about my daughter?
Jimmie: Absolutely not!
Roy O'Dell: Why not? She's not good enough for you?
Jimmie: She's fifteen!
Roy O'Dell: Well, it's pretty late in the game for you to be Mr. Choosy.
[after Carolyn explains to Jimmie the symbolism between flowers and vaginas]
Jimmie: I'm not interested in your goddamn vagina, all right? I just want to marry you!
Jimmie: Just give me the damn symbolic vaginas.
Marco: You are sick!
Grandad Shannon: [into megaphone] THE HUMAN CONDITION!
Daphne: [snarling at prisoner] I don't play "good cop, bad cop" - requires too much patience. I go straight to "bad cop, worse cop." Now behave!
Marco: [imitating Muhammad Ali while playing with a remote-controlled toy robot] C'mon, gorilla, we in Manila! C'mon, gorilla, this is the Thrilla!
Grandad Shannon: As my last surviving descendant, you have a sacred duty to pass on my genetic material.
Jimmie: That's a lovely sentiment.
Priest: It's a wonderful thing, as time goes by, to be with someone who looks into your face, when you've gotten old, and still sees what you think you look like.
Ilana: [Upon seeing Jimmie after her performance] Up until now I thought you were dead!
[Gives him a dirty look and leaves]
[Before Jimmie asks his ex-girlfriend Buckley to marry him]
Marco: OK, crunch time. Seventh game of the World Series. Bottom of the ninth. Two outs. Full count. It's our last chance. There's no tomorrow. Got it?
Jimmie: Four cliches ago.
Preppy Bride: Thank God I'm bisexual
Jimmie: [playing pool with Marco] Stripes wins, I propose.
Marco: And solids?
Jimmie: I don't know. Fake choking on a piece of steak.
[Jimmie hears that his "shit or get off the pot" marriage proposal has become an urban legend]
Customer: My psychoanalyst couldn't stop talking about it. It's a bunch of crap if you ask me.