Turk: Do you like poetry?
Charles Randall: Yeah, I do. Roses are red, violets are blue. I wanna poke your fucking eyes out with my dick, you fuck.
Detective James Carter: Freeze, or I'll blow your ass cheeks off.
Alex Murphy: Dead or alive, you're coming with me!
Eddie Vogel: How's it hanging, counselor?
Mick Haller: A little to the left.
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.
Eddie: Oh, and if Tom or anyone else for that matter feels like givin' them a bit of a kickin', I'm sure it won't do any harm.
Soap: Yeah, little bit of pain never hurt anybody. If you know what I mean. Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, fuck-off shiny ones. Ones that look like they could skin a crocodile. Knives are good, because they don't make any noise, and the less noise they make, the more likely we are to use them. Shit 'em right up. Makes it look like we're serious. Guns for show, knives for a pro.
Tom: Soap, is there something we should know about you?
Bacon: I'm not sure what's more worrying. The job or your past.
Wilfred James: I discovered something that night that most people never have to learn. Murder is sin. Murder is damnation. But murder is also work.
Mouna Khalil: This feels like Syria.
Police Chief Hubbard: What's this man doing here?
Axel Foley: Bleeding, sir.
Lieutenant Danny Roman: A quick lesson in lying. See, this is what us real cops do: We study liars. Example: If I ask you a question about something visual, like your favorite color, your eyes go up and to the left. Neurophysiology tells us your eyes go in that direction, because you're accessing the visual cortex. So you're telling the truth. If your eyes go up and right, you're accessing the brain's creative centers and we know you're full of shit.
Inspector Todd: Don't think, Axel! It makes my dick itch!
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.
Police Inspector: Doctors... Lawyers... Never get past 60 thousand rupees. He's won 10 million. What can a slumdog possibly know?
Jamal Malik: The answers.
J. Algernon Hawthorne: Jolly nasty accident there. Jolly lucky nobody was hurt.
Mrs. Marcus: Where did you get that funny accent? Are you from Harvard or something?
J. Algernon Hawthorne: Harvard? Rather not. I'm English.
Mrs. Marcus: Sounds so foreign.
J. Algernon Hawthorne: Really?
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.
Alfred: You are as precious to me as you were to your own mother and father. I swore to them that I would protect you, and I haven't.
Leslie Rodgers: How do you sleep at night?
Parker: I don't drink coffee after 7.