Prof. Ned Brainard: Let's see, flying rubber... Flubber.
Prof. Ned Brainard: Substance X, we dub thee... Flubber.
Prof. Ned Brainard: I'm a desperate man, Charlie, and desperate men do desperate things.
Prof. Ned Brainard: I'm an American! See it? My credit cards.
Walter Neff: That was all there was to it.Nothing had slipped, nothing had been overlooked.There was nothing to give us away. And yet, Keyes, as I was walking down the street to the drugstore, suddenly, it came over me that everything would go wrong. It sounds crazy Keyes, but it's true, so help me, I couldn't hear my own footsteps. It was the walk of a dead man.
Walter Neff: Suddenly it came over me that everything would go wrong. It sounds crazy, Keyes, but it's true, so help me. I couldn't hear my own footsteps. It was the walk of a dead man.
Phyllis: I'm a native Californian. Born right here in Los Angeles.
Walter Neff: They say all native Californians come from Iowa.
Phyllis: Do you make your own breakfast, Mr Neff?
Walter Neff: Well, I squeeze a grapefruit now and again.
Barton Keyes: What's the matter? Dames chasing you again? Or still? Or is it none of my business?
Walter Neff: If I told you it was a customer, you'd.
Barton Keyes: "Margie"! I bet she drinks from the bottle.
Walter Neff: Do I laugh now, or wait 'til it gets funny?
Phyllis: I think you're rotten.
Walter Neff: I think you're swell - so long as I'm not your husband.
Phyllis: Get out of here.
Walter Neff: You bet I'll get out of here, baby. I'll get out of here but quick.
Walter Neff: You'll be here too?
Phyllis: I guess so, I usually am.
Walter Neff: Same chair, same perfume, same anklet?
Phyllis: I wonder if I know what you mean.
Walter Neff: I wonder if you wonder.
Walter Neff: Who'd you think I was anyway? The guy that walks into a good looking dame's front parlour and says, "Good afternoon, I sell accident insurance on husbands... you got one that's been around too long? One you'd like to turn into a little hard cash?"
Phyllis: We're both rotten.
Walter Neff: Only you're a little more rotten.
Walter Neff: What do the police figure?
Barton Keyes: That he got tangled up in his crutches and fell off the train. They're satisfied. It's not their dough.
Walter Neff: It's just like the first time I came here, isn't it? We were talking about automobile insurance, only you were thinking about murder. And I was thinking about that anklet.
Walter Neff: How could I have known that murder could sometimes smell like honeysuckle?
Pete Marshall: It's like looking for a needle in a... a slaughter house.
Pete Marshall: I'm with the Trotter Poll. We're like the Gallop Poll but not as fast.
Pete Marshall: They'd sooner cut your throat as peel an apple.
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