Quentin Hapsburg: Do you gamble?
Lt. Frank Drebin: Every time I order out.

Cheer up, Ed. This is not goodbye. It's just I won't ever see you again.

Frank Drebin

[Frank offers Tanya a cigarette]
Frank Drebin: Cigarette?
Tanya Peters: Yes, I know.

Frank: It's the same old story. Boy finds girl, boy loses girl, girl finds boy, boy forgets girl, boy remembers girl, girls dies in a tragic blimp accident over the Orange Bowl on New Year's Day.
Jane: Goodyear?
Frank: No, the worst.

Lt. Frank Drebin: Hector Savage. From Detroit. Ex-boxer. His real name was Joey Chicago.
Ed Hocken: Oh, yeah. He fought under the name of Kid Minneapolis.
Nordberg: I saw Kid Minneapolis fight once. In Cincinnati.
Lt. Frank Drebin: No you're thinking of Kid New York. He fought out of Philly.
Ed Hocken: He was killed in the ring in Houston. By Tex Colorado. You know, the Arizona Assassin.
Nordberg: Yeah, from Dakota. I don't remember it was North or South.
Lt. Frank Drebin: North. South Dakota was his brother. From West Virginia.
Ed Hocken: You sure know your boxing.
Lt. Frank Drebin: All I know is never bet on the white guy.
[Nordberg nods in agreement]

Busty Female Shop Assistant: Is this some kind of bust?
Lt. Frank Drebin: Well, it's very impressive, yes, but we need to ask you a few questions.

[narrating] The attempt on Nordberg's life left me shaken and disturbed, and all the questions kept coming up over and over again, like bubbles in a case of club soda. Who was this character in the hospital? And why was he trying to kill Nordberg? And for whom? Did Ludwig lie to me? I didn't have any proof, but, somehow, I didn't entirely trust him, either. Why was the I Luv You not listed in Ludwig's records? And if it was, did he know about it? And if he didn't, who did? And where the hell was I?


I'd known her for years. We used to go to all the police functions together. Ah, how I loved her, but she had her music. I think she had her music. She'd hang out with the Chicago Male Chorus and Symphony. I don't recall her playing an instrument or be able to carry a tune. Yet she was on the road 300 days of the year. In fact I bought her a harp for christmas. She asked me what it was.


Frank: A good cop - needlessly cut down by some cowardly hoodlums.
Ed: No way for a man to die.
Frank: No... you're right, Ed. A parachute not opening... that's a way to die. Getting caught in the gears of a combine... having your nuts bit off by a Laplander, that's the way I wanna go.
Wilma Nordberg: [cries] Oh... Frank. This is terrible.
Ed: Don't you worry Wilma. Your husband is going to be alright. Don't you worry about anything. Just think positive. Never let a doubt enter your mind.
Frank: He's right, Wilma. But I wouldn't wait until the last minute to fill out those organ donor cards.
[Wilma cries again]
Ed: What I'm trying to say is that Wilma, as soon as Nordburg is better, he's welcome back at Police Squad.
Frank: Unless he's a drooling vegetable. But I think that's only common sense...
[Wilma cries again]

Mayor: Now Drebin, I don't want any trouble like you had on the South Side like last year, that's my policy.
Frank: Well, when I see five weirdos dressed in togas, stabbing a man in the middle of the park in front of a full view of 100 people, I shoot the bastards, that's my policy.
Mayor: That was a Shakesphere In The Park Production of Julius Caesar, you moron! You killed five actors! Good ones!

[Jane climbs a ladder]
Frank: Nice beaver!
Jane: [producing a stuffed beaver] Thank you. I just had it stuffed.

Jane: Would you like a nightcap?
Frank: No thank you, I don't wear them.

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