Police Chief Hubbard: What's this man doing here?
Axel Foley: Bleeding, sir.
Sergeant Howie: What religion can they possibly be learning jumping over bonfires?
Lord Summerisle: Parthenogenesis.
Sergeant Howie: What?
Lord Summerisle: Literally, as Miss Rose would doubtless say in her assiduous way, reproduction without sexual union.
Sergeant Howie: Oh, what is all this? I mean, you've got fake biology, fake religion... Sir, have these children never heard of Jesus?
Lord Summerisle: Himself the son of a virgin, impregnated, I believe, by a ghost.
Frank White: From now on, nothing goes down unless I'm involved. No blackjack no dope deals, no nothing. A nickel bag gets sold in the park, I want in. You guys got fat while everybody starved on the street. Now it's my turn.
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.
Left Ear: We're in Italy. Speak English.
Harley Quinn: Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape? Sorry. The voices. Ahaha, I'm kidding! Jeez! That's not what they really said.
George Caldwell: I've never milked a cow before.
Rita: Cut the gas, Steve, you're a grown man. I'm sure you've had some similar experience.
Jack Colt: Who are you?
Mr. Jigsaw: I'm your worst nightmare.
Jack Colt: No, waking up without my penis is my worst nightmare.
Archie: People ask the question... What's a RocknRolla? And I tell 'em - it's not about drums, drugs, and hospital drips, oh no. There's more there than that, my friend. We all like a bit of the good life - some the money, some the drugs, other the sex game, the glamour, or the fame. But a RocknRolla, oh, he's different. Why? Because a real RocknRolla wants the fucking lot.
Lonnie Laloush: Walk faster Finger Blaster.
Mouna Khalil: This feels like Syria.
Louis Booker: Don't worry, Charlie. We'll get the money back, all right? He can't go far.
Charlie Carbone: It's a continent, Louis. He can go very far.
Louis Booker: I know it's a continent. I read the book.
Charlie Carbone: Did you happen to read the chapter on not putting your jacket on a wild animal?
Louis Booker: No, but I did read the chapter on how an aborigine can kill a white man with a twig. Do you want to see that one?
Dean: Do you have any idea how much therapy you people need?
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.
Scout: Hey, Miss Dubose.
Miss Dubose: Don't you say hey to me, you ugly girl!
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.