Beshraavi: [Offering Pollock a small platter of dried dates] Take a date, Mr. Pollock, as a gesture of friendship. I'm a very Arabian Arab, I'm afraid.
David Pollock: [Takes a date, then offers one to the falcon] Friends?
Beshraavi: Flesh, Mr. Pollock. Hassan eats only flesh.
David Pollock: I thought he looked at it wistfully.
Beshraavi: It must have been your fingers.
Major Sylvester Pennington Sloane: May I have a word with you please Professor Pollock?
David Pollock: Well... if it's about that small outstanding bill at the bookstore there is a simple explanation: Poverty.
Major Sylvester Pennington Sloane: No, it's nothing like that.
David Pollock: Oh, in that case, how do you do?
Yasmin Azir: Why don't you tell them where the cipher is?
David Pollock: Becasue I don't know where it is.
Yasmin Azir: You told me you had it.
David Pollock: You told me lots of things too. Looks like we're just a pair of pathological liars.
David Pollock: Let us through! That man's about to be killed!
Policeman: I hardly think so, sir. This is England!
David Pollock: Those stairs must lead somewhere.
Yasmin Azir: Are you sure?
David Pollock: If they don't, watch out for the last one!
Yasmin Azir: This is like a recurring dream I used to have.
David Pollock: How did it end?
Yasmin Azir: Don't ask!
David Pollock: I have a vivid imagination... I must say... I never saw myself unpacking a prime minister!
Yasmin Azir: Are you burning it?
David Pollock: That's how you detect invisible ink. Weren't you ever in the Boy Scouts?
Yasmin Azir: I flunked the physical.
David Pollock: Should have tried my troop, we'd have waived it.
David Pollock: There's nothing like a little kidnapping now and then to keep the circulation going.
David Pollock: Very well sir, where would you like me to be murdered this time?
Yasmin Azir: You've got to listen to me!
David Pollock: Boy, every time I try to listen to you someone either hits me over the head or tries to vaccinate me.
David Pollock: I couldn't let you die without hearing the end of your story!
David Pollock: I'll meet you in Knightsbridge at the Kelly Hotel. I'm registered there under the name of O'Malley.
Yasmin Azir: [confused] 'O'Malley'?
David Pollock: Yeah, there's a discount if you're Irish.
David Pollock: [Giving instructions to the driver of a large truck which is blocking the road] All right, mate. Lots of room, lots of room. That's it. Keep on going. Lots of leeway back there.
David Pollock: Bring her on back, mate. Okay, fine. Plenty of leeway. Plenty of leeway. Lots of room. Right on back. Good.
[Rear end of truck smashes through a brick wall]
Beshraavi: Before you came home, I received word that... Mr. Pollock had arrived safely in his rooms at Oxford.
Yasmin Azir: A hearty race, the Americans.
Beshraavi: I was also told that he was riding a bicycle... and singing a very strange song.
Yasmin Azir: A hearty and fun-loving race.
Beshraavi: What do you suppose happened to Mustafa? He hasn't come back yet.
Yasmin Azir: Dead, I'm afraid.
Beshraavi: And servants so hard to come by these days...
Yasmin Azir: I saw several possible replacements at the zoo.
Yasmin Azir: Yussef is not my boyfriend. I loathe him.
David Pollock: Of course you do. You just do what he tells you because he's holding your family hostage back in the old country.
Yasmin Azir: How did you know that?
David Pollock: Oh, come on. I've seen that movie.
Yasmin Azir: General Ali Ben Ali, the man he works for, threatened to kill my mother and sisters unless I cooperated with him.
David Pollock: And Beshraavi, who's he got, your Uncle Max from Newark?
Yasmin Azir: What do you mean?
David Pollock: Forget it. If you want to live with Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, that's your business.
Yasmin Azir: [At the races, both dressed up posh] Well, if it isn't Mr. Dillingham.
David Pollock: By Jove, it's actually Lady Hetherington-Cartwright.
Yasmin Azir: Don't overdo it.
David Pollock: I didn't know you could.
David Pollock: Mrs. Ragheeb, I know this is a terrible time to trouble you, but I've got to know what that inscription means. I thought, perhaps, among your husband's notes... But he must have told you something. He must have mentioned where he got it, who gave it to him. We have to know.
Ragheeb's Wife: "We"? Who's "we"?
David Pollock: A girl. Her family's in great danger. Her mother and sisters, General Ali will kill them.
Ragheeb's Wife: Is the girl named Yasmin Azir?
David Pollock: Yes.
Ragheeb's Wife: And she told you that her mother and her sisters are in danger?
David Pollock: Yes.
Ragheeb's Wife: Yasmin has no such family, Mr Pollock. There is only her father. General Ali would never harm him.
David Pollock: Why not?
Ragheeb's Wife: Because General Ali *is* her father.
Yasmin Azir: The police think you killed Webster. Have you seen the papers?
David Pollock: I don't care what they say as long as they spell my name right.
Beshraavi: Mr. Pollock, very good of you to reonsider my proposal.
David Pollock: I always try my best to cooperate with the very rich Mr. Beshraavi.
Yasmin Azir: $30,000 in exchange for your old age is a terrible bargain!
David Pollock: ...and dear Miss Azire. You know, for a poor subjugated Arab lady you lead one hell of an emancipated life. Mr. Beshraavi on the one hand and Mr. Yussef Kasim on the other. Do you get Sundays off?
Webster: That cipher, *where is it*?
David Pollock: Ask me later alligator.
Webster: *Where is it*?
David Pollock: I left it at Beshraavi's. After all, it belongs to him.
Yussef Kasim: Wrong again teach. He snatched it. Belongs to this cat right here. Now where is it?
David Pollock: Miss Azir, after all we've been through together couldn't you find it in your heart to put in a small word on my behalf?
Yasmin Azir: He told me he had it in his pocket.
David Pollock: [shaking head] Tattle tale.
David Pollock: This isn't your house. This is my house, and you weren't invited, so go away!
Yasmin Azir: I didn't even know if you were alive, but I came to warn you anyway.
David Pollock: Warn me about what?
Yasmin Azir: Nazim's men. They are on their way here to get the cipher back. You've got to get away.
David Pollock: Now slow down a minute. Aren't you the same Miss Azir who just stood there while your friends tried to kill me?
Yasmin Azir: Oh David! You don't think I enjoyed that?
David Pollock: Oh! Well! So long as you didn't enjoy it!
Yasmin Azir: Webster sold out to Nazim.
David Pollock: It must be a popular indoor sport these days.
Yasmin Azir: You're not including me i hope!
David Pollock: Of course not. We're believing you today.
Beshraavi: Oh - and if I don't hear from you by noon tomorrow - try and think of some remote corner of the world where I won't find you. I don't think you can - but try.
Yasmin Azir: [At a construction site - after they've both lied about where they were going] David, you followed me, didn't you?
David Pollock: No, I didn't! You went to the embassy, and I came here to my hotel.
Journalist: [Prime Minister has arrived, weather is quite rainy] What are your first impressions?
Hassan Jena: We could use some of your English rain in our dry country. In our country, there's a great deal of oil and very little water. A highly inflammable situation.
Yasmin Azir: [Addressing a uniformed Queen's Guardsman, under whose foot an important scrap of paper has lodged] Excuse me, soldier...
David Pollock: [correcting her] He's a Guardsman.
Yasmin Azir: Excuse me, Guardsman. I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're on duty, but... there is something under your foot that belongs to us.
Major Sylvester Pennington Sloane: I'm only checking your glasses. You look as though I want to drill your teeth. Do sit down, Professor Ragheeb. That doesn't sound English. Are you English, Professor Ragheeb?
Ragheeb: Why do you ask?
Major Sylvester Pennington Sloane: Oh, small talk, merely small talk. The weather's too dull and politics too explosive. I certainly didn't mean to pry.
Beshraavi: You mustn't mind Hassan, Mr. Pollock.
David Pollock: 'Hassan'?
Beshraavi: He's a peregrine falcon. I've named him Hassan Jena after our beloved prime minister. They share so many sterling qualities. A sharp eye, a fierce dedication, and *very* sharp claws. Hassan won't harm you, Mr. Pollock, if you don't separate him from his master. He is excessively loyal.
David Pollock: You keep him well fed, I trust.
Beshraavi: Of course. Nobody's *that* loyal.
Yasmin Azir: [Meeting Pollock for the first time] You're an American?
David Pollock: Yes sir, indeedy-do, Ma'am.
Beshraavi: Mr. Pollock, some Bedouins are in the habit of saying to their guests, "All that I possess is yours"... I am not one of them.
Beshraavi: Extraordinary sensation. Perhaps it was the way he looked at you?
Yasmin Azir: Who?
Yasmin Azir: Darling, if you start getting jealous over everyone who looks at me, it will do terrible things to your blood pressure. I don't think you have to worry about college professors.
Beshraavi: Why not?
Yasmin Azir: They're only interested in work.
Beshraavi: They're the most dangerous kind, my love. They're such expert peekers.
Yasmin Azir: Don't worry. If I were standing stark naked in front of Mr. Pollock, he'd probably yawn.
Yussef Kasim: To the point, daddy-o. Where's the cipher?
David Pollock: The cipher?
Yussef Kasim: Yeah, the cipher. We know you've got it. No point fooling. You're in the middle of nowhere. The Marines can't save you for democracy here.
David Pollock: As long as you needed someone to sit down and work, I was your man. But the situation has changed somewhat. What you need now is someone with a Ph. D. in rough-house.
Hassan Jena: I did warn you that it might become dangerous.
David Pollock: Well, dangerous, sir, not lethal.
David Pollock: Look, everyone's got problems, including me, so I'd just as soon not get mixed up in yours.
Yasmin Azir: But you are mixed up in them, whether you like it or not.
David Pollock: In this cynical old world, you have to believe in something. So, it might as well be you.
Yasmin Azir: The candy! You are brilliant!
David Pollock: The result of a clean mind and a healthy body.
Hassan Jena: Mr. Pollock, what has happened?
David Pollock: Mr. Jena, there's been some trouble. A man was killed at Ascot today.
Hassan Jena: Yes, I heard. Have you also heard who it is they think killed him?
David Pollock: Mrs. Pollock's idiot son, David, that's who. I need your help.
Hassan Jena: I don't think there's anything I can do for you right now, besides suggesting you stay clear of the police.