Peel out, I just love it when guys peel out.

Debbie Dunham

Vic: Hey Deb, How's my soft baby?
Debbie Dunham: Come on, beat it, Vic. I'm not your baby.
Vic: Aw, come on honey. Look, so I never called you back. I've been, you know, busy.
Debbie Dunham: Yeah, three weeks? Besides, it only took me one night to realize if brains were dynamite you couldn't blow your nose.
Vic: Look who's talking. Hey, who's the wimp you're hanging out with now? Einstein?
Debbie Dunham: Tiger happens to be very intelligent, unlike you. I know everything your dirty little mind is thinking - it shows.
Terry Fields: Hey now, buddy, look. The lady obviously doesn't want to have...
Vic: Look, creep. You want a knuckle sandwich?
Terry Fields: Uh, no thanks. I'm waiting for a double Chucky Chuck.
Vic: Then keep your smart-ass mouth shut.
Vic: [pauses]
Vic: Hey, I'll call you some night Deb. Some night when I'm hard up.
Debbie Dunham: I won't be home.
Debbie Dunham: [lights a match and throws it at him as he makes an obscene gesture at her]
Debbie Dunham: Get out of here.
Terry Fields: You seem to know a lot of weird guys.

[Batty has grabbed Deckard's gun hand and pulled it, along with the gun, through a hole in the wall]
Batty: Proud of yourself, little man?
[Batty takes the gun out of Deckard's hand]
Batty: This is for Zhora!
[Batty breaks one of Deckard's fingers]
Batty: This is for Pris!
[Batty breaks another one of Deckard's fingers, puts the gun back into his hand and lets him go]
Batty: C'mon, Deckard. I'm right here, but you've gotta shoot straight!
[Deckard shoots through the hole in the wall and blows one of Batty's ears off]
Batty: Straight doesn't seem to be good enough! Now it's my turn! I'm going to give you a few seconds before I come.

Not very sporting to fire on an unarmed opponent. I thought you were supposed to be good. Aren't you the "good" man? C'mon, Deckard. Show me what you're made of.

Batty

I need ya, Decks. This is a bad one, the worst yet. I need the old blade runner, I need your magic.

Bryant

[narrating] They don't advertise for killers in the newspaper. That was my profession. Ex-cop. Ex-blade runner. Ex-killer.

Deckard

Deckard: Have you felt yourself to be exploited in any way?
Zhora: Like what?
Deckard: Well... well, like to get this job. I mean, did... did you do, or... or were you asked to do anything lewd... or unsavory, or... or, otherwise repulsive to your... your person, huh?
Zhora: [laughs] Are you for real?

Deckard: She's a replicant, isn't she?
Tyrell: I'm impressed. How many questions does it usually take to spot them?
Deckard: I don't get it, Tyrell.
Tyrell: How many questions?
Deckard: Twenty, thirty, cross-referenced.
Tyrell: It took more than a hundred for Rachael, didn't it?
Deckard: [realizing Rachael believes she's human] She doesn't know.
Tyrell: She's beginning to suspect, I think.
Deckard: Suspect? How can it not know what it is?

Holden: You're in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down...
Leon: What one?
Holden: What?
Leon: What desert?
Holden: It doesn't make any difference what desert, it's completely hypothetical.
Leon: But, how come I'd be there?
Holden: Maybe you're fed up. Maybe you want to be by yourself. Who knows? You look down and see a tortoise, Leon. It's crawling toward you...
Leon: Tortoise? What's that?
Holden: [irritated by Leon's interruptions] You know what a turtle is?
Leon: Of course!
Holden: Same thing.
Leon: I've never seen a turtle... But I understand what you mean.
Holden: You reach down and you flip the tortoise over on its back, Leon.
Leon: Do you make up these questions, Mr. Holden? Or do they write 'em down for you?
Holden: The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can't. Not without your help. But you're not helping.
Leon: [angry at the suggestion] What do you mean, I'm not helping?
Holden: I mean: you're not helping! Why is that, Leon?
[Leon has become visibly shaken]
Holden: They're just questions, Leon. In answer to your query, they're written down for me. It's a test, designed to provoke an emotional response... Shall we continue?

[narrating] The report read "Routine retirement of a replicant." That didn't make me feel any better about shooting a woman in the back.

Deckard

Fiery the angels fell. Deep thunder rolled around their shoulders... burning with the fires of Orc.

Batty

Holden: Describe in single words only the good things that come into your mind about... your mother.
Leon: My mother?
Holden: Yeah.
Leon: Let me tell you about my mother.
[Leon shoots Holden with a gun he had pulled out under the table]

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