Rolls-Royce Phantom two. 4.3 litre, 30 horsepower, six cylinder engine, with Stromberg downdraft carburetor, can go from zero to 100 kilometres an hour in 12.5 seconds. And I even like the color.


Where's the fuckin door?

John McClane

A new era has begun. The age of the Transformers is over...

Harold Attinger

As I was going to St. Ives, / I met a man with seven wives. / Every wife had seven sacks, / Every sack had seven cats, / Every cat had seven kittens. / Kittens, cats, sacks, wives, / How many were going to St. Ives?


Transportation is a precise business.


My heart's not cold, it's broken.


Gianni: Not quite what you expected when you showed up for work this morning, is it, Frank?
Frank Martin: [rolls his eyes] Is that what passes for wit in this circle?
Gianni: [laughs] In this circle, my friend, "wit" is not a requirement of the job. Brutality, yes. An ability to inflict pain, absolutely. A certain psychotic moral ignorance, blind obedience, all required. But not wit.

Simon: [on phone] Rear guard, you can close up now.
[pauses, not getting an answer]
Simon: We've reached the dam, you can come up now...
[no answer]
Simon: Nils? You can close in now. Nils?
John McClane: [on the guard's phone] Attention! Attention! Nils is dead! I repeat, Nils is dead, fuckhead. So's his pal, and those four guys from the East German All-Stars, your boys at the bank? They're gonna be a little late.
Simon: John... in the back of the truck you're driving, there's $13 billion dollars worth of gold bullion. I wonder would a deal be out of the question?
John McClane: Yeah, I got a deal for you. Come out from that rock you're hiding under, and I'll drive this truck up your ass.
Simon: How colorful.

When it gets up to your ankles, you're going to beg to tell me everything. When it gets up to your knees, you'll kiss my ass to kill you.

Franz Sanchez

Hans: Touching, Cowboy. Touching. Or should I call you Mr McClane? Mr. Officer John McClane of the New York Police Department?
John McClane: Sister Teresa called me Mr. McClane in the Third Grade. My friends call me John... and you're neither shithead.

Gentlemen, this may only be an exercise so far as the Ministry of Defence is concerned. But for me, it is a matter of pride that the 00 section has been chosen for this test. Your objective is to penetrate the radar installations of Gibralter. Now, the SAS has been placed on full alert to intercept you, but I know you won't let me down. Good luck, men.


Eugene Kittridge: I think we've lost enough agents for one night.
Ethan Hunt: You mean I've lost enough agents for one night.
Eugene Kittridge: You seem hell-bent on blaming yourself, Ethan.
Ethan Hunt: Who else is left?
Eugene Kittridge: Yeah. I see your point.

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