Roger... Pay the two dollars.Clara Thornhill
Judge Anson B. Flynn: How long have you known your client?
Victor Larrabee: Seven years, Your Honor.
Judge Anson B. Flynn: Do you know him to be a reasonable man?
Victor Larrabee: Absolutely.
Clara Thornhill: Ha!
Roger Thornhill: Mother.
Judge Anson B. Flynn: And you believe there is some...
[Escaping captivity, Roger Thornhill slips in through the window of a darkened hospital room. Immediately the light is snapped on. A woman patient sits up in the bed, reaching for her glasses]
Hospital Patient: STOP!
Roger Thornhill: [stops] Oh. Excuse me.
[resumes moving towards the door]
Roger Thornhill: [She has put on her glasses and gets a good look at him]
Hospital Patient: [plaintively] Stop.
[Thornhill pauses, turns briefly to warn her off with a raised finger, then rushes out the door]
[a drunk Thornhill looks over the side of the car and sees the rear wheel is dangling over the side of a cliff] Whewwwwww!Roger Thornhill
[singing] I've grown accustom to my bourbon.Roger Thornhill
We'll get them. We'll throw the book at them. Assualt and kidnapping. Assault with a gun and a bourbon and a sports car. We'll get them.Roger Thornhill
[as the police carry Thornhill out of the Art Auction Room, Roger says to the thug who tried to kill Roger twice before in the picture] I'm sorry old man. Too bad. Keep trying.Roger Thornhill
Handle with care, fellas. I'm valuable property.Roger Thornhill
Bob Falfa: Hey man, I'm sorry if I scared ya!
John Milner: You're gonna hafta do one hell of a lot more than that to scare me!
Bob Falfa: Hey I've been lookin' all over for ya man. Didn't nobody tell ya I was lookin' for ya?
John Milner: Man, I can't keep track of all you punks runnin' 'round here backwards.
Bob Falfa: Hey you're s'posed to be the fastest thing in the Valley man, but that can't be your car. It must be your mama's car! I'm sorta' embarrassed to be this close to ya!
John Milner: Yeah, well I'm not surprised, drivin' a field car!
Bob Falfa: Field car? What's a field car?
John Milner: A field car runs through the fields, droppin' cow shit all over the place to make the lettuce grow.
Bob Falfa: Ha ha! That's pretty good! Say, I like the color of your car there, man. What's that s'posed to be? Sort of a cross between piss yella' and puke green ain't it?
John Milner: Well, you call that a paint job, but it's pretty ugly. I bet you got to sneak up on the pumps just to get a little air in your tires!
Bob Falfa: Well at least I don't have to pull over to the side just to let a funeral go by man.
John Milner: Oh ho, funny!
Mr. Kroot: All right, all right, Bolander, break that up. You know the rules. You and your girlfriend want to do that, go someplace else, huh?
Steve Bolander: Hey, Kroot! Why don't you go kiss a duck?
Mr. Kroot: What did you say?
Steve Bolander: I said, go kiss a duck, marblehead.
Mr. Kroot: Okay, Bolander, you are suspended. Don't - don't you even come in on Monday. You're out, you're out!
Steve Bolander: Hey, hey, Kroot. I graduated last semester. Remember?
Joe College strikes out.Peg
John Milner: (Expletive)! Hey, get down!
Carol: Hey, is this what they call "copping a feel"?
John Milner: What? No, get up, N-O. Sheezus.
Carol: What's your name?
John Milner: My name? Mud, if anybody sees you.