Lynn Bracken: You say fuck a lot.
Bud White: You fuck for money.
Wife Beater: Who in the hell are you?
Bud White: The ghost of Christmas past. Why don't you dance with a man for a change?
Wife Beater: What are you, some kind of smart ass?
You're a bit of a puzzlement to me these days, Wendell. You don't seem to be your old cruel self anymore. And I had such grand plans for your future.Captain Dudley Smith
He's on a night train to the big adios.Sid Hudgens
Sid Hudgens: Are you tight with the DA, Jackie?
Jack Vincennes: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. He tried to throw me off the force last Christmas as a little joke.
Ed Exley: A naked man with a gun? Do you really expect anyone to believe that?
Bud White: Get the fuck away from me.
Ed Exley: How's it gonna look in your report?
Bud White: It'll look like justice. That's what the man got. Justice.
Ed Exley: You don't know the meaning of the word you ignorant bastard.
Bud White: Oh yeah, well you think it means getting your picture in the paper. Why don't you go after criminals for a change instead of cops?
Captain Dudley Smith: Bud White is a valuable officer.
Ed Exley: White's a mindless thug.
Captain Dudley Smith: No, Edmund, he's just a man who can answer yes to those questions I've asked you from time to time.
You're like Santa Claus with that list, Bud, except everyone on it's been naughty.Dick Stensland
Something has to be done, but nothing too original, because hey, this is Hollywood.Sid Hudgens
Bud White: What happened?
Detective at Hush-Hush Office: Somebody beat him to death and stole a bunch of files. Must've dug up garbage on the wrong guy. Got it narrowed down to a thousand suspects.
Bud White: Bullshit. How would a two-bit hick like Meeks get his hands on a large supply of heroin?
Johnny Stompanato: You're right, it's probably bullshit. Even if he did, he could never unload it. Not without drawing all kinds of attention.
Bud White: Maybe that's why he's under a house in Elysian Park and he don't smell too good, paisano.
Stomach of the week. Unemployed actor had frankfurter, french fries, alcohol, and sperm. Hell of a last supper, don't you think?Ray Pinker