Quotes from Robert Mitchum movies and TV shows

Philip Marlowe: Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains.

Max Cady: I got somethin' planned for your wife and kid that they ain't nevah gonna forget. They ain't nevah gonna forget it... and neither will you, Counselor! Nevah.

Eddie 'Fingers' Coyle: I shoulda known better than to trust a cop. My own goddamn mother coulda told me that.
Dave Foley: Everybody oughta listen to his mother.

Eddie 'Fingers' Coyle: Can you imagine being a kid like that. What is he, 24 or something. Greatest hockey player in the world. No four - Bobby Orr. Geeze, what a future he's got, uh?

Eddie 'Fingers' Coyle: No, I don't care to give my name. Stop farting around and give me Foley.

Cpl. Allison, USMC: You're alone here?
Sister Angela: God has been with me.

Cpl. Allison, USMC: You don't have to be afraid of me, ma'am. That was just drunk talk. I'd never hurt you! I'd rather die first.

Cpl. Allison, USMC: Just like takin' candy from a baby.

Sister Angela: Only God knows what'll happen to us.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: And He won't tell, huh, ma'am?
Sister Angela: He might.

Rev. Harry Powell: Chiiilll... dren.

Rev. Harry Powell: Salvation is a last-minute business, boy.

Rev. Harry Powell: Lord, you sure knew what you were doing when you brung me to this very cell at this very time. A man with ten thousand dollars hid somewhere, and a widder in the makin'.

Rev. Harry Powell: Not that you mind the killings! There's plenty of killings in your book, Lord.

Rev. Harry Powell: She'll not be back. I reckon I'm safe in promising you that.

Ben Harper: What religion do you profess, preacher?
Rev. Harry Powell: The religion the Almighty and me worked out betwixt us.

Rev. Harry Powell: Now just tell me. Where's the money hid?
Pearl Harper: But I swore I promised John I wouldn't tell.
Rev. Harry Powell: John doesn't matter! Can't I get that through your head, you poor, silly, disgusting little wretch.

Rev. Harry Powell: I can hear you whisperin' children, so I know you're down there. I can feel myself gettin' awful mad. I'm out of patience children. I'm coming to find you now.

Rev. Harry Powell: There are things you do hate, Lord. Perfume-smellin' things, lacy things, things with curly hair.

Kathie: I'm sorry he didn't die.
Jeff: Give him time.

Jeff: You say to yourself, "How hot can it get?" Then, in Acapulco, you find out.