Look, let me explain something to you. I'm not Mr. Lebowski. You're Mr. Lebowski. I'm the Dude. So that's what you call me. That or His Dudeness... Duder... or El Duderino, if, you know, you're not into the whole brevity thing.

Well, sir, it's this rug I have. It really tied the room together.

This is a very complicated case, Maude. You know, a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-yous. And, uh, lotta strands to keep in my head, man. Lotta strands in old Duder's head. Luckily I'm adhering to a pretty strict, uh, drug regimen to keep my mind limber.

The Dude abides.

What the fuck are you talking about? The Chinaman is not the issue here, Dude. I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, Dude. Across this line, you DO NOT... Also, Dude, Chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. "Asian-American", please.

Do you see what happens, Larry, WHEN YOU FUCK A STRANGER IN THE ASS? [proceeds to smash up what he believes is Larry's new Corvette] THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS, LARRY! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK A STRANGER IN THE ASS!

Of course they were Nazis, Donny; they were threatening castration! Are we gonna split hairs here? Am I wrong?

Say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos.

This isn't 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.