I didn't realize you were an art collector. I thought you just collected corpses.

Roger Thornhill

Roger Thornhill: How does a girl like you get to be a girl like you?
Eve Kendall: Lucky, I guess.

Once more into the fray
Into the last good fight I'll ever know
Live or die on this day
Live or die on this day


Leonard: You must have had some doubts about her yourself. You still do.
Phillip Vandamm: Rubbish.
Leonard: Why else would you have decided not to tell her that our little treasure here has a belly full of microfilm?
Phillip Vandamm: You seem to be trying to fill mine with rotten apples.
Leonard: Sometimes the truth does taste like a mouthful of worms.
Phillip Vandamm: The truth? I've heard nothing but innuendos.
Leonard: Call it my woman's intuition, if you will. But I've never trusted neatness. Neatness is always the result of deliberate planning.

Roger Thornhill: I don't like the games you play, Professor.
The Professor: War is hell, Mr. Thornhill. Even when it's a cold one.
Roger Thornhill: If you fellows can't lick the VanDamm's of this world without asking girls like her to bed down with them and fly away with them and probably never come back, perhaps you ought to start learning how to lose a few cold wars.
The Professor: I'm afraid we're already doing that.

I may go back to hating you. It was more fun.

Roger Thornhill

Agent Frank Burton: Listen to me Nathan, were going to find you.
Nathan: Not if I find you first!

Maximillian Cohen: Failed treatments to date: Beta blockers, calcium channel blockers, adrenalin injections, high dose ibuprofen, steroids, Trager Mentastics, violent exercise, cafergot suppositories, caffeine, acupuncture, marijuana, Percodan, Midrine, Tenormin, Sansert, homeopathics. No results. No results...

Maximillian Cohen: Studying the pattern made Euclid conscious of itself. I had to... Before it died it spit out the number. That consciousness is the number?
Sol Robeson: No, Max. It's only a nasty bug.
Maximillian Cohen: It's more than that, Sol.
Sol Robeson: No, it's not. It's a dead end. There's nothing there.
Maximillian Cohen: It's a door, Sol. It's a door.
Sol Robeson: A door at the front of a cliff. You're driving yourself over the edge.

I'm going to start beating the shit out of you in the next five seconds.


Eve Kendall: How do I know you aren't a murderer?
Roger Thornhill: You don't.
Eve Kendall: Maybe you're planning to murder me right here, tonight.
Roger Thornhill: Shall I?
Eve Kendall: Please do.

Eve Kendall: I want you to do a favor for me. A big, big favor.
Roger Thornhill: Name it.
Eve Kendall: I want you to leave right now, stay far away from me, and don't come near me again. We're not going to get involved. Last night was last night, and it's all there was, and it's all there is. There isn't going to be anything more between us. So please. Goodbye, good luck, no conversation, just leave.

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