Ben Shockley: Nag, nag, nag.
[calmly speaking like a stewardess to the passengers of the hijacked bus, as she is holding a gun]
Gus Mally: Sorry for this inconvience, ladies and gentlemen, but at this time, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave the bus. Please be sure and take all your belongings with you and I promise arrangements will be made for your continued journey as quickly as possable.
[Passengers stare at her dumbfounded]
Gus Mally: Well?
[waves gun and shouts]
Gus Mally: HAUL ASS!
Ben Shockley: On a scale of one to ten, I'd have to give her a two, and that's because I haven't seen a one before.
Gus Mally: You probably don't know if I'm good in bed.
Gus Mally: You cheap shot, gutless bastard! You really get off roughing up girls, don't you? Big man! Big 45 caliber fruit!
Ben Shockley: That's me!
Constable: Them fellers up there are gonna wonder why you bailed out. And I'm gonna tell 'em. You chose sides. Got yourself a little nookie and chose sides.
Blakelock: Now, can you handle it, or do I have to write it out in braille and shove it up your ass?
Constable: I got this here buddy, he had the idea one time we'd open up a string of whorehouses and advertise them like them fried chicken places. "Finger lickin' good!"
Ben Shockley: Exactly. Reasonable suspicion. I can go anywhere I please if I have reasonable suspicion. Now if I have suspicion a felony's been committed, I can just walk right in here anytime I feel like it, 'cause I got this badge, I got this gun, and I got the love of Jesus right here in my pretty green eyes.
Ben Shockley: You see we've got a problem, you and me. We don't like each other much but we have to take a trip together. Now you can come along peacefully or you can be a pain in the ass. But I'm warning you: You mess around and I'll put the cuffs on you. You talk dirty - I gag you. You run - I'll shoot ya. My name is Shockley and we've got a plane to catch. Let's go.
Ben Shockley: Pack your lipstick!
Constable: Hey c'mon talk to me, I wanna know what it's like being a whore.
Gus Mally: Actually, I always thought it was rather like being a cop.
Constable: You did? Hahaha...
Gus Mally: Yeah. Not unlike being on the take at two dozen bars in downtown Vegas. Taking money from some politician each time you peel his drunken kid's Cadillac off a telephone pole. Strong-arming the Chicanos in the barrio on Saturday night. Busting kids for smoking grass... then taking a kickback from the heroin dealers. Or those occasions when you do bust a pusher... and skim the haul when you've made the collar. Sell it to your dope addict buddies on the force.
Constable: She's sure onto all our tricks.
Gus Mally: As I see it, the only difference between you and me is that when I quit work I take a long hot bath and I'm as clean as the day I was born. But a cop, especially a flunkie like you, when the sheriff whistles - you squat. And what he does to you rots your brain. No amount of water on earth can get you clean again.
Gus Mally: You've got fluff in your brain and I'm afraid the only way you'll ever clean it out is to put a bullet through it. Does your wife know you masturbate?
Gus Mally: [kicks Eastwood in the testicles] Sorry, just had to jog your thinking!
Gus Mally: Ben Shockley don't you die on me Open those Fucking eyes
[Shockley rolls his eyes and opens them]
Ben Shockley: Nag, Nag, Nag!
Ben Shockley: Now, the next turkey who tries that, I'm gonna shoot him, stuff him, and stick an apple in his ass.
Waitress: I was reading this article and it talked about flying. Said we'd all become just like cattle, trusting our lives to people we don't even know. Like pilots. Said we do it all the time. And like as not, we get our heads bashed in, like cattle, for being so trusting. I mean, did you ever stop to think about that? Like those pilots I dated - - hell, this article said half those guys are so snockered they don't even know what button to push. I mean hell, one minute you are flying 30,000 feet in the air and the next, sppbbblllttt! - -- you are splattered all over the ground... somebody's dachshund nipping at your pancreas.