"Police Capt. Peterson: You're a cop, Leonard. There's 17,000 laws on the books to be enforced. You haven't got time to reform wayward girls. She's been with Brown three and a half years. That's a lot of days... and nights."

"A woman doesn't care how a guy makes a living, just how he makes love."

"People tell me all sorts of things. I don't listen."

"If they take you to police headquarters, shoot yourself in the head. It'll make everything a lot simpler."

"I'm gonna give you a break. I'm gonna fix it, so you don't hear the bullets. [Removes McClure's hearing aid]"

"So you lost. Next time you'll win. I'll show you how. Take a look at Joe McClure here. He used to be my boss, now I'm his. What's the difference between me and him? We breathe the same air, sleep in the same hotel. He used to own it! [yelling into McClure's sound magnifier in his ear] Now it belongs to me. We eat the same steaks, drink the same bourbon. Look, same manicure. [lifting and pointing at McClure's hand] Same cufflinks. But there's only one difference. We don't get the same girls. Why? Because women know the difference. They got instinct. First is first, and second is nobody."

"I know his name. The name of a man who will pick up a phone and call Chicago and New Orleans and say "Hey Bill, Joe is coming down for the weekend. Advance him fifty thousand," and he hangs up the phone and the money's advanced, protection money. A new all night bar opens, with gambling outside city limits. A bunch of high school kids come in for a good time. They get loaded, they get irresponsible, they lose their shirts. Then they get a gun, cause they're worried, they want to make up their losses. And a filling station attendant is dead with a bullet in his liver. I have to see four kids on trial for first degree murder. Look at it. First degree murder, because a certain Mr. Brown picked up a phone."

"Helen Walker - Alicia Brown"

"Robert Middleton - Police Capt. Peterson"

"Jean Wallace - Susan Lowell"

"Brian Donlevy - Joe McClure"

"Richard Conte - Mr. Brown"

"The Illuminati did not become violent until the 17th Century. Their name means "The Enlightened Ones." They were physicists, mathematicians, astronomers. They were concerned about the Church's inaccurate teachings. They were dedicated to scientific truth. The Vatican didn't like that, so the Church began to — how do you say it? — hunt them down and kill them. Drove them underground into a secret society."

"I want people's last memory of the church to be of them walking out with their heads held high, not of some old men sneaking out a back door."

"Who is more ignorant — the man who cannot define lightning, or the one who does not respect its awesome natural power?"

"Faith is a gift which I have yet to receive."

"By all means, let's just talk it over"

"It's an ambigram. It's the same image forward and backward. Now, that's common for a symbol like Yin and Yang or the swastika, but that's a word. That Illuminati ambigramatic symbol has been considered a myth for 400 years. Supposedly, in the 16th Century, some artist created it as a tribute to Galileo's love of symmetry. It was only going to be revealed when the Illuminati had amassed enough power to resurface and carry out their final goal."

"[Last words] Father, into Thy hands, I commit my spirit."

"If science is allowed to claim the moment of creation, what is left for God?"

"Fellas, you called me."

"Have you come to make me a martyr?"

"— W-well, I'll go then? — Don't be a stranger..."

"'A brother to your own, for better or for worse.' A fascist proverb.I'm Fascist."

"Keep your hands on the table. That's good... I have a silencer. I pull on the trigger — your balls will fall on the floor. What, scared? Were you scared when you killed Kostya?"

"All right, you can live, bastard. Thank your son. It'd be a shame to leave a good kid without a father. Sit quiet, dry your pants."

"What an ugly mug! They've got all kinds of people in Moscow (in ukrainian)."

"— Hey, what does "How are you" mean in English?"

"Think less, pay more attention. You're not in Russia anymore."

"— [with prominent Jewish accent] Young man! Don't worry about how it looks! Do you know what kind of engine it has? Like my Sonya! It'll take you to Kiev!"

"— American dream would take you."

"— I like it here. America has all the power in the world."

"Tell me, American, what is power? Is it money? My brother says it's money. Well, you have a lot of money, so what? I think that power is in truth. Whoever has truth is stronger. Say, you've deceived someone, made some money. Does it make you stronger? No, it doesn't. Because the truth isn't on your side. And the guy you deceived has the truth, so he is stronger. Right? Dmitry Gromov, money, come on."

"— Russian, surrender!"

"Free Angela Davis!!!"

"— Are you gangsters?"

"A Russian. Doesn't speak English. He's armed."

"Ben? Ben, eto Danila. Ay nid khelp."

"I discovered that I've got"

"Boy, you don't understand. Bring us some vodka. We're going home."

"— Did I really break his arm? — No... Just dislocated it... — And that guy, the one who was yelling, who was he? — The director... — And what was that song? — "Wings"... by Nautilus..."

"— What's your name? — Hoffman. — What are you, a Jew? — German. — Ah. I'm just not wild about Jews... — And Germans? — Germans are fine. — What's the difference? — Why are you bothering me?"

"— Pay the fine. — Brother... don't kill, brother! Take the money, take it all! Listen, don't kill, brother! Here! — You're not my brother, you black-assed bastard. How much is the fine? — Seven — (counts out the bills, throws the wallet on the floor) — Run."

"— Mother wrote you were in the war? — Nah, I sat it out at HQ. I was a clerk. — Know how to shoot? — They took me to the shooting range..."

"— You're smart, German... Tell me - what do we live for? — Well, everyone decides for himself. There's this saying, "what is good for the Russian is death for the German". I live to disprove it."

"— You did a good thing, brother. You helped me out. And you helped people. Now only Russians will trade there. — And Germans? — What Germans? — Well, Germans! — Why Germans?"

"— What are they singing about? — What the hell do you care? They're great! — I don't like it. — This asshole gets off on Nautilus."

"— Your American music is crap. — Musique? Ah, la musique, oui, très bien, excellente. — Why are you arguing? I'm telling you, your music is crap, and you argue. — Musique! — Yeah, you too... Soon, your America will be finished. We'll show you hell... Got it? — Why are you bothering him, he's French! Let's go! — What's the difference?"