Pee-wee: I call it... the hot dog tree, because... it's a hot dog tree.

Pee-Wee: All I wanted was a measly sandwich. I very nicely explained that I was starving. I'm starving. Please.
Mr. Ryan: Sorry, ladies, I guess you'll just have to wait. You remember, nobody is as important in this community as Pee-Wee Herman. All you other shoppers will just have to play second fiddle to Pee-Wee. I guess that's just the way things are around here. My whole purpose in life is to serve Pee-Wee Herman. Everything else comes second. Here's your sandwich. Is there anything else I can do for you, Pee-Wee?
Pee-Wee: Well, I would like a pickle if it's not too much trouble.
Mr. Ryan: Oh, no trouble at all, Pee-Wee. Sorry, Otis. Sorry, Deke. *ppens a barrel, knocking off their chess board* Game's over. Pee-Wee Herman wants a pickle. Here, here's your darn pickle. Are you happy now?
Pee-Wee: Mmm-hmm.

Pee-wee: Pee-wee Herman had a farm, E-I-E-I-O!

Andy: You okay, Boss?
Mace Montana: Well, my chin's banged up pretty bad... I think my ribs are broke... an' it feels like I punctured a major organ, Andy... but I'm circus.

Pee-wee: *the children are staring at them* Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer! *the kids whip out cameras, flashbulbs go off* Ahh! Paparazzi! *poses suggestively*