Dirty Harry (1971)
Harry Callahan: Uh uh. I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well to tell you the truth in all this excitement I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?
The Mayor: Callahan... I don't want any more trouble like you had last year in the Fillmore district. You understand? That's my policy.
Harry Callahan: Yeah, well, when an adult male is chasing a female with intent to commit rape, I shoot the bastard - that's my policy.
The Mayor: Intent? How'd you establish that?
Harry Callahan: When a naked man is chasing a woman through a dark alley with a butcher knife and a hard on, I figure he isn't out collecting for the Red Cross.
The Mayor: I think he's got a point.
Doctor: Sure, Harry. We can save the leg.
[takes out some scissors]
Harry Callahan: What are you going to do with those?
Doctor: Going to cut your pants off.
Harry Callahan: No. I'll take them off.
Doctor: It'll hurt.
Harry Callahan: $29.50, let it hurt.
[after a battered crook has accused Harry of beating him]
Chief: Have you been following that man?
Harry Callahan: Yeah, I've been following him on my own time. And anybody can tell I didn't do that to him.
Harry Callahan: Cause he looks too damn good, that's how!
[Harry is getting a dressing-down for his most recent arrest]
District Attorney Rothko: You're lucky I'm not indicting you for assault with intent to commit murder.
Harry Callahan: What?
District Attorney Rothko: Where the hell does it say that you've got a right to kick down doors, torture suspects, deny medical attention and legal counsel? Where have you been? Does Escobedo ring a bell? Miranda? I mean, you must have heard of the Fourth Amendment. What I'm saying is that man had rights.
Harry Callahan: Well, I'm all broken up about that man's rights.
Harry Callahan: You know, you're crazy if you think you've heard the last of this guy. He's gonna kill again.
District Attorney Rothko: How do you know?
Harry Callahan: 'Cause he likes it.
Chief: [introducing Harry to the mayor] Mr. Mayor, Inspector Callahan
The Mayor: All right. Let's have it.
Harry Callahan: Have what?
The Mayor: You report. What have you been doing?
Harry Callahan: Well, for the past three-quarters of an hour, I've been sitting on my ass waiting on you.
Gonzales: There is one question, Inspector Callahan: Why do they call you "Dirty Harry"?
De Georgio: Ah that's one thing about our Harry, doesn't play any favorites! Harry hates everybody: Limeys, Micks, Hebes, Fat Dagos, Niggers, Honkies, Chinks, you name it.
Gonzales: How does he feel about Mexicans?
De Georgio: Ask him.
Harry Callahan: Especially Spics.
Harry Callahan: Now you know why they call me Dirty Harry: every dirty job that comes along.
De Georgio: You need any help, Harry?
Harry Callahan: Go on out and get some air, fatso!
[turns to killer]
The Killer: [pleading] Please! No more! I'm hurt! Can't you see I'm hurt? You shot me! Please, don't, don't! Let me have a doctor, let-let me have a doctor. Please, get me the doctor! Don't kill me!
Harry Callahan: The girl, where is she?
The Killer: [crying with reason] You tried to kill me!
Harry Callahan: If I tried that, your head would be splattered all over this field.
Harry Callahan: Now, where's the girl?
The Killer: [almost crying] I want a lawyer.
Harry Callahan: [angered] I said, where's the girl?
The Killer: [cries] I have the rights to a lawyer.
Harry Callahan: [raises his voice] Where's the girl?
The Killer: I have the rights to a lawyer!
[Harry looks at Scorpio's wound on his leg]
The Killer: Don't, please!
[Harry begins begins to slowly push his shoe on the wound]
The Killer: I have right to a lawYEEER!
[Scorpio begins to scream in pain as the camera zooms out]
Harry Callahan: You from around here?
Gonzales: Yeah, but I went to school at San Jose State.
Harry Callahan: You play ball?
Gonzales: Uh, no, I boxed. Light heavyweight.
Harry Callahan: Just what I need, it's a college boy.
Gonzales: You haven't found one thing you like about me?
Harry Callahan: Well, it's early yet. Get your degree?
Harry Callahan: Sociology? Oh, you'll go far. That's if you live.
Mr. Jaffe: The usual lunch or the usual dinner?
Harry Callahan: Well, what difference does that make?
Mr. Jaffe: None.
Harry Callahan: Say Jaffe, is that Tan Ford still parked in front of the bank?
Mr. Jaffe: Tan ford...
Mr. Jaffe: Yep. Tan Ford.
Harry Callahan: Engine running?
Mr. Jaffe: I don't know. How can I tell?
Harry Callahan: Exhaust fumes coming from the tailpipe.
Mr. Jaffe: Oh, my God. That is awful. Look at all that pollution.
Harry Callahan: [Harry turns to see] Yeah. Do me a favor.
[gives him slip of paper]
Harry Callahan: Call this number.
Mr. Jaffe: Police department?
Harry Callahan: Yeah. Tell them Inspector Callahan thinks there's a 211 in progress at the bank. Be sure and tell them that's IN progress.
Mr. Jaffe: 211. Yes sir.
[goes to phone and starts dialing up]
Harry Callahan: Now, if they'll just wait for the cavalry to arrive.
[Suddenly a gun shot goes off and an alarm bell follows immediately]
Harry Callahan: Ah, shit.
Harry Callahan: There must be something you can get him on.
Judge Bannerman: Without the evidence of the gun and the girl, I couldn't convict him of spitting on the sidewalk.
Harry Callahan: Are you trying to tell me that ballistics can't match the bullet up to this rifle?
District Attorney Rothko: It does not matter what ballistics can do. This rifle might make a nice souvenir. But it's inadmissible as evidence.
Harry Callahan: And who says that?
District Attorney Rothko: It's the law.
Harry Callahan: Well, then the law is crazy.
Big Black Man: [Big Black has just been given a wad of cash by Scorpio] You want to go all the way?
The Killer: Every penny's worth.
Big Black Man: Relax. Take it easy. It's gonna be all right.
[pulls on a pair of leather gloves and methodically beats Scorpio into a bloody pulp]
Big Black Man: You sure you want the rest of it?
The Killer: Every penny's worth, you black son of a bitch!
Big Black Man: [kicks Scorpio hard] This one's on the house!
[flattens him with one last punch and walks away]
De Georgio: Morning, Harry.
Harry Callahan: Morning, fatso. Bressler wants to see you.
De Georgio: You're a sweet man, Harry.
Chief: Callahan? You willing to take the money to him?
Harry Callahan: When will you people stop messing around with this guy? He's gotta be stopped now!
The Mayor: He's got a busload of kids and I can't take that chance. I gave my word of honor on it and he will not be molested! That's a direct order, Callahan!
Harry Callahan: Well, you can just get yourself another delivery boy.
Suicide Jumper: [Harry is being lifted by a crane to try to talk down a suicide jumper standing on the edge of a building] Don't you try to get me!
Harry Callahan: [chuckles] Not me, no. You're the one who wants to get yourself killed. Not me. That always happens with you men, you know? At the last minute, you wanna grab on to something or take somebody with you, but down you go. Not me, brother.
Suicide Jumper: Aren't you gonna try to grab me?
Harry Callahan: A friend of mine was up about 20 floors with a jumper a few years ago. The jumper grabbed him, they went off, 20 floors down. Just mashed 'em all to bits. You couldn't tell which legs were which, you couldn't tell which arms were which, it was a terrible mess. And I'll tell ya, I almost threw up myself. I'd just like your name and address, that's all.
Suicide Jumper: Why?
Harry Callahan: Well like I said, it's such a mess down there afterwards. And it makes identification impossible, even if they do find your driver's license in all that blood and everything.
Suicide Jumper: I think... I think I'm gonna puke!
Harry Callahan: Aw, don't do that, son. I mean all those people down there looking up? The fire chief looking up, his face?
Suicide Jumper: YOU ROTTEN BASTARD!
[Jumps from the edge and grabs a hold of the crane, trying to bring Harry down with him]
Suicide Jumper: LET ME LOOSE!
[Harry punches him out cold, and delivers him safely to the ground]
The Killer: Freeze cop. Now, left hand, pull out your gun.
[Harry pulls out his .44 Magnum]
The Killer: My, that's a big one.
The Killer: [to Harry Callahan] No, don't pass out on me now cop! No, no, no, no, no. Don't pass out on me yet, you dirty, rotten oinker! Do we understand each other? You better answer me, if you want to know where the girl is. Okay? Now listen... I've changed my mind. I'm going to let her die! I just wanted you to know that. You hear me? I just wanted you to know that before I killed you!
The Killer: Goodbye, Callahan!
[Chico fires at Scorpio to defend Harry, who's lying on the ground]
Harry Callahan: Chico! Don't... kill him!
Gonzales: No wonder they call him "Dirty Harry", always gets the shit end of the stick.
Bressler: One more word out of you and you're chopped off at the ankles!
The Killer: [Scorpio has jacked and the unaware kids are singing with him] Row, row, row your boat/gently down the stream/merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...
Bus Kid: Where are we going?
The Killer: What? What did you say?
Bus Kid: Where are we going?
The Killer: We're going to the ice-cream factory and see how ice-cream's made. Now anybody who doesn't wanna go can get off right here.
Bus Kid: I wanna go home to my mommy.
The Killer: [slaps the kid] Stupid kid! Come on sing everyone! Sing or I'll go home and kill all your mommies, sing, sing!
The Killer: [kids reluctantly sing with Scorpio] ... gently down the stream/merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,/ life is quite a dream!
The Mayor: Well where are you going?
The Killer: I'll tell the pilot when I get on the plane. No alerts, nothing.
The Mayor: I guarantee you you will not be molested in any way.
Harry Callahan: [speaking into his hidden microphone] Couple of kids necking.
Gonzales: Boys or girls?
Liquor Store Owner: [noticing Scorpio's battered face] What the hell happened to you?
The Killer: My wife's brother. I hit her, so he hit me... several times.
The Killer: Drop the gun, freeze! I'll blow his brains out! DROP THE FUCKING GUN!