"Let me tell you about Hatchet Harry. Once there was this geezer called Smithy Robinson, who worked for Harry. It was rumoured that he was on the take. Harry's invited Smithy 'round for explanation. Smithy didn't do a very good job. Within a minute, Harry's lost his rag. Reached out for the nearest thing at hand, which happened to be a 15-inch black rubber cock. He's then proceeded to batter poor Smithy to death with it. Now, that was seen as a pleasant way to go. Hence, Hatchet Harry is the man you pay if you owe."

"There's no money, there's no weed. It's all been replaced by a pile of corpses."

"They're lacking in criminal credibility, ain't they? I might get laughed at."

"[To Tom about the guns] So, the only thing connecting us to the case is in the back of your car, which is parked outside?"

"No, fuck that. You can think about it. I am panicking and I'm off."

"Anyway, fuck it. The battle is over and the war is won."

"Robert Davi — FBI Special Agent Johnson"

"Grand L. Bush — FBI Agent Johnson"

"Hart Bochner — Harry Ellis"

"De'voreaux White — Argyle"

"Clarence Gilyard Jr. — Theo"

"Alexander Godunov — Karl"

"James Shigeta — Joseph Takagi"

"Paul Gleason — Deputy Police Chief Dwayne T. Robinson"

"Reginald VelJohnson — Sgt. Al Powell"

"Bonnie Bedelia — Holly Gennero McClane"

"Alan Rickman — Hans Gruber"

"Bruce Willis — John McClane"

"40 Stories of Sheer Adventure"

"40 Stories High — with Suspense, Excitement and Adventure on every level!"

"Suspense, Excitement, Adventure, On every level!"

"It's Christmas Eve In L.A. And The Party Action's About To Explode... On The Fortieth Floor!"

"He's the only chance anyone has got."

"Thirteen terrorists. One cop. The odds are against John McClane... That's just the way he likes it."

"High above the city of L.A. a team of terrorists has seized a building, taken hostages and declared war. One man has managed to escape. An off-duty cop hiding somewhere inside. He's alone, tired... and the only chance anyone has got."

"[after dropping Marco's body onto Powell's car] Welcome to the party, pal!"

"Hatchet Harry: I don't want to know who you use, as long as they're not complete muppets."

"Dog: Golf – the best way to spoil a good walk. Winston Churchill said that. I say it's a dog-eat-dog world. And I got bigger teeth than you two."

"Big Chris: All right, son. Roll them guns up, count the money, and put your seat belt on!"

"Big Chris: It's been emotional."

"Barfly Jack: Rory? Yeah, I know Rory. He's not to be underestimated. He's a funny-looking fucker, I know, but you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing – it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone down the battlecruiser to watch the end of the football game. No one's watching the custard, so he switches the channel over. A fat geezer's north opens, and he wanders up and turns the Liza over. "Now fuck off and watch it somewhere else!" Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game. So, calm as a coma, he picks up a fire extinguisher, walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, and plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. "That's fucking it," says the geezer. "That's fucking what?" says Rory. And he gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty. He flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the geezer's lit up like a leaking gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turns back to his game. His team's won, too: four–nil."

"When you dance with the devil, you wait for the song to stop, know what i mean?"

"If you don't want to be counting the fingers you haven't got, I suggest you get those guns. Quick!"

"Hello boy, feeling a bit poorly? I know your friends are responsible for most of the cash, so I'm gonna give you one week to find it. Otherwise, I will take a finger of each of you and your friends' hands for every day that passes without payment. And then, when you run out of digits, your dad's bar, and who knows what then. All right, my son?"

"[Trying to stop his monitor switching off] Come on! Not now, please, not – [monitor goes off] oh, you fucking bastard."

"No mortgages, no debts – lock, stock, the fucking lot."

"If you hold back anything, I'll kill ya. If you bend the truth, or I think you're bending the truth, I'll kill ya. If you forget anything, I'll kill ya. In fact, you are going to have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now do you understand everything I've said? [Nick nods head] Because if you don't, I'll kill ya. Now, Mr. Bubble and Squeak, you may enlighten me."

"We're gonna do a proper decoration job. I want the grey skies of London illuminated. I want that house painted red."

"This white shite thinks he can steal my cannabis and sell it back to me? He's got less brains than you, Lenny! Get Nick, the greasy wop, shistos, pesevengi, gamouri Greek bastard, round here now, if he's still stupid enough to be on this planet!"

"Mr. Breaker. Today, my name is Mr. Breaker!"

"What do you want, a medal? I'll shoot you in the fucking throat if I don't get my ganja back!"