Carl: It's fascinating what fifty bucks will get you at the county recorder's office.
Martin Bishop: What have you got?
Carl: Playtronics Corporate Headquarters, the complete blueprints.
Martin Bishop: Not bad. Not bad, Carl.
Carl: Well, thanks.
Martin Bishop: Where'd you get the fifty bucks?
Carl: Took it from Mother's wallet.
Martin Bishop: Good.
Bank Secretary: So, people hire you to break into their places... to make sure no-one can break into their places?
Martin Bishop: It's a living.
Bank Secretary: Not a very good one.
Martin Bishop: "Give him head"?
Whistler: "Be a beacon"?
Cosmo: Pollution. Crime. Drugs, poverty, disease, hunger, despair - we throw gobs of money at them and problems only get worse. Why is that? Because money's most powerful ability is to allow bad people to continue doing bad things at the expense of those who don't have it.
Martin Bishop: I agree. Now who did you say you were working for?
Cosmo: Oh, that's just my day job.
Gregor: Uh, new title: "Cultural Attache."
Martin Bishop: Unbelievable.
Gregor: Last few years has been very confusing for people in my line of work.
Martin Bishop: Whistler, you gotta do it.
Whistler: Do what?
Martin Bishop: You gotta drive. I'll talk you through it, now hurry.
Whistler: Drive what?
Martin Bishop: Oh, Richard Nixon's personal checking account is in here.
Cosmo: Ooh, this is a challenge. Martin, we have to find somebody truly worthy to give his money to.
Martin Bishop: How about...the National Association of Legalized Marijuana.
Cosmo: Perfect, and how much should he give?
Martin Bishop: He's a generous man. I'd say all he's got.
Mother: Warner just pulled up! He's got Liz with him!
Donald Crease: Oh no! Martin, I think you'd better hurry.
Martin Bishop: The one thing I can't do is hurry.
Tom Bishop: Happy?
Nathan Muir: Seventy-four casualties, an apartment block leveled, one dead terrorist? Yeah, happy.
Tom Bishop: We have some fucked up barometer for success, don't we?
Tom Bishop: Vodka did me in, I'm comin' home.
Nathan Muir: Throw out the bottle. They know.
Tom Bishop: Fuck your rules, Nathan.
Nathan Muir: Okay, but tonight they saved your life.
Tom Bishop: She's just someone I used to get to the camp.
Nathan Muir: She gonna be of any more use to us?
Tom Bishop: Not to us.
Anna Cathcart: The Scotch is older than she is.
Nathan Muir: Am I supposed to feel bad about that?
Nathan Muir: We didn't know when the Doc was going to be giving the Sheik his physical but it was our one and only opportunity to take him out. So I didn't have the usual time to butter him up. Which means we needed twice the sex with half the foreplay.
Nathan Muir: You go off the reservation, I will not come after you.
Nathan Muir: She had worked both ends against the middle for so long, the middle decided to give up and go home.
Owen Legate: Listen, Miss Starr...I've been travelling since six o' clock this morning. Gotta get up early tomorrow and do some work. Now, if you come with the room, if you are included with the two meals, then let's get on with it. Let's not play around.
Alva Starr: What do you think I am?
Owen Legate: What do you think you are? (00:27:50)
Einar Gilkyson: I expect you to be nice to who ever comes to my door.
Griff Gilkyson: Yes sir.
Einar Gilkyson: Unless it's some guy looking to sell his angle on God. There's no excuse for that bullshit.
Einar Gilkyson: Do you believe they're still sending junk mail to my boy?
Nina: Well, maybe the dead are flattered to get a letter. Ever think of that?
Einar Gilkyson: I'll let you know when I'm gone. Maybe I'll send you a postcard from the other side.
Gary Watson: You've seen too many westerns old man.
Einar Gilkyson: That doesn't exactly work in your favor.
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