Dakota: How would you like to bite that in the butt, develop lockjaw, and be dragged to death?
Robert McCall: Got to be who you are in this world, no matter what.
Richard Kimble: I didn't kill my wife!
Sam Gerard: I don't care. (00:37:10)
"Dirty Steve" Stephens: Damn good riding with you, Chavez.
Chavez: Many nights, my friend... Many nights I've put a blade to your throat while you were sleeping. Glad I never killed you, Steve. You're all right.
Vanessa: Ho-ly shit! Well look who got beaten with the ugly stick. Bob, is that you? My God, I can't believe such an itty bitty gun could make such a big mess out of someone! You are so ugly Bob! Oh and hey I heard you have one of those poop bags where the shit comes out the side, you're just a big old shitbag aren't you Bob! I hope you think of me every time you shit in that thing, motherfucker!
Charlie Prince: For a one-leg rancher... He's one tough son of a bitch.
Frank Castle: Latin Kings.
Micro: Let him go, Frank.
Frank Castle: You know this piece of shit?
Micro: Ex piece of shit.
Frank Castle: Yeah. He's a regular choir boy.
Carlos: Fuck you, cracker.
Micro: Language.
Linus Caldwell: What did I say?
Danny Ocean: You called his niece a whore.
Rusty Ryan: A very cheap one.
Danny Ocean: She's seven.
Romeo: Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate, O anything, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
Martin Riggs: You want me to drive?
Roger Murtaugh: No, you're supposed to be suicidal, remember? I'LL drive.
Martin Riggs: Anybody who drives around in this town IS suicidal.
Mouna Khalil: This feels like Syria.
Carmen Sternwood: You're not very tall are you?
Philip Marlowe: Well, I, uh, I try to be.
James Barr: There's this guy. He's a kind of cop, at least he used to be. He doesn't care about proof, he doesn't care about the law, he only cares about what's right. He knows what I did. You can't protect me. No one can.
Dick Harper: Son of a bitch.
Jane Harper: That fucker.
Dick Harper: Hon, language.
Miklo: What am I going to tell my parole officer?
Popeye: Tell him to suck his pee-pee.
Peter Hartman: Oh, for Christ's sake, DaSilva! Come off this cop on the beat mentality! Your wife left you for it! Wasn't that enough.
Chalmers: Ross.
Bennet: Albert Edward Renick, used car salesman, Chicago.
Chalmers: Who's Renick?
Bullitt: He was the man who was shot in the Hotel Daniels. You sent us to guard the wrong man, Mr. Chalmers.
Harry Callahan: We're not just going to let you walk out of here.
Crook: Who's "we", sucker?
Harry Callahan: Smith, and Wesson, and me.