Eugene Kittridge: Hello, Max.
Max: My lawyers are going to have a field day with this. Entrapment, jurisdictional conflict...
Eugene Kittridge: Well, maybe we'll just leave the courts out of this one.
Max: I'm sure we can find something I have that you need.

Luther Stickell: Reach your folks?
Ethan Hunt: [nods]
Luther Stickell: How do they feel?
Ethan Hunt: About what?
Luther Stickell: The apology from the Justice Department, VIP treatment. You know, the whole nine yards.
Ethan Hunt: Well, my mom was a little confused how the DEA could mistake her and Uncle Donald for a couple of dope smugglers in the Florida Keys.

Ethan Hunt: I thought I was going to see Max.
Matthias: You misunderstood. No one sees Max.
Ethan Hunt: Then what am I doing here?
Matthias: Allowing Max to see you, and hear what you've got to say.
Ethan Hunt: I don't communicate very well through a shroud.
Matthias: If Max doesn't like what you have to say, you will be wearing that shroud... indefinitely.

Sarah Davies: Tell me, Senator, do you all have someone on your staff named Jack?
Senator John Waltzer: Jack... I believe we did have a Jack. An unreliable fellow as I recall. Constantly late, and behind in his work. I was forced to tie him behind one of my best stallions and drag him around my barn for a few days.

Ethan Hunt: Saved your ass again, Jack.
Jack Harmen: Give me a break, Pops.
Sarah Davies: Such a nice ass.
Jack Harmen: And a lonely ass.

Let me ask you something, Kittridge. If a man has crushed, shot, stabbed, and detonated five members of his own IMF team, how upset do you really think you're gonna make him by hauling Mom and Uncle Donald down to the county courthouse?

Ethan Hunt

Computers are a bitch!

Luther Stickell

Claire Phelps: Just give me the money.
Ethan Hunt: [quietly] You've earned it.

RED LIGHT! GREEN LIGHT!

Ethan Hunt

Eugene Kittridge: I understand you're very upset.
Ethan Hunt: You've never seen me very upset.

Luther Stickell: You really think we can do this.
Ethan Hunt: We're going to do it.

J.D.: So, tell me something, Miss Thelma. How is it you ain't got any kids? I mean God gets you something special, I think you oughta pass it on.
Thelma: Well, Daryl, that's my husband.
J.D.: Daryl?
Thelma: Yeah, he says he's not ready yet. He says he's still too much of a kid himself. He kinda prides himself on being infantile.
Louise: He's got a lot to be proud of.
Thelma: Louise and him don't get along.
Louise: That's putting it mildly.
Thelma: She thinks he's a pig.
Louise: I KNOW he's a pig.

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