Johann Krauss: You must learn to Foc-yoos!
Hellboy: Foc-yoos? You know with that accent, I wouldn't use that word.

Liz Sherman: There have been over seventy deaths reported. There are no survivors?
Hellboy: Same story here, babe.
Liz Sherman: Don't call me 'babe'.
Hellboy: *Abe!* I said Abe!

You’re in love. Have a beer.


Philip Lisle: Your documentations and guarantees. If I were you, I'd keep them in a very safe place.
Terry Leather: Yeah, well it very well won't be a safety deposit box.

Kevin Swain: [after being released] How the hell did that happen?
Terry Leather: Fucked if I know. Just keep walking.

Wendy Leather: The papers said there was a woman involved. Martine, was it? Was she involved?
Terry Leather: Yeah, she brought us the job in the first place.
Wendy Leather: Oh, and did you sleep with her Terry?

Mummy! Daddy's on the radio!

Catherine Leather

These people aren't regular cozzers, Martine. They're above that. They do things coppers can't. They think we've seen these photos, and we're expendable as dog shit.

Terry Leather

Terry Leather: Why'd you pick Kev and me? You could've found better thieves.
Martine Love: Old times sake.

Dave Shilling: What's down there?
Terry Leather: It's a pile of skeletons.
Dave Shilling: You're joking. Let's hope that's not the last gang who tried to take this bank.

Terry Leather: This is The Major. Major Guy Singer. Final member of our team.
Bambas: I don't know this man. Who are you?
Guy Singer: None of your business.
Terry Leather: No secrets around here. Major's a con artist, usually elderly widows.
Guy Singer: There's no need to bring that up.

Kevin Swain: So what are these films you're in?
Dave Shilling: Ah, forget about it.
Kevin Swain: Go on.
Dave Shilling: Technically, it's what you call pornography.

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