Chiun: Professional assassination. It's the highest form of public service.
Chiun: Women should stay home and make babies. Preferably, manchild.
Major Rayner Fleming: [to Remo] I see you both went to the same charm school.
Chiun: Fear is just a feeling. You feel hot. You feel hungry. You feel angry. You feel afraid. Fear can never kill you.
Remo Williams: How old are you? I mean really, you are old, now aren't you?
Chiun: For an apricot, yes. For a head of lettuce, even more so. For a mountain, I have not even begun in years. For a man, I am just right.
Conn MacCleary: [to Remo] You're going to be the Eleventh Commandment: 'Thou shalt not get away with it.'
Chiun: Breathe out... slowly... do not gulp. If you do not breathe correctly, you do not move correctly. Pitiful. I can see the deadly hamburger has done its evil work.
Chiun: The trained mind does not need a watch. Watches are a confidence trick invented by the Swiss.
Remo Williams: I've got a job to do.
[whispers in Remo's ear]
Chiun: Do not embarrass us.
Remo Williams: I won't... Little Father.
Conn MacCleary: [referring to Remo] Well, Chiun? What do you think?
Chiun: He's very slow. His reflexes are pitiful; poorly coordinated. He's in wretched physical condition, impetuous, and clumsy. He moves like a baboon with two club feet! However, there is a feeble glint of promise in his eyes. I think I can do something with him.
Conn MacCleary: Good.
Chiun: I do not wear glasses so that I may see. I wear glasses so that I may see... more.
Chiun: It would be better for you to eat this can than what is inside of it. Why must everything in this country be coated with monositi-... monosoti...
Remo Williams: Monosodium glutamate. You can't even say it.
Chiun: I can say "rat droppings." That does not mean I want to eat them.
Chiun: You did not ask to be white. So perhaps that is not your fault. You did not ask to be here. Perhaps that is not your fault, either.
New York City traffic control cop: Excuse me. What are you doin' to that boy?
Remo Williams: Oh, uh, unnecessary use of the horn, officer.
New York City traffic control cop: Well, I'll be unnecessary use of my nightstick on your thick skull if you don't let him go.
Remo Williams: Whatever happened to police courtesy and that kind of stuff, huh?
New York City traffic control cop: We save that bullshit for the Upper East Side.
Remo Williams: You know, Chiun, there are times when I really like you.
Chiun: Of course. I am Chiun.
Remo Williams: And there are times when I could really kill you.
Chiun: Good! We will practice that after dinner.
Remo Williams: Are you hurt?
Chiun: No. When you approach middle age, there is a tendency toward bruising, my son.
Remo Williams: What? What did you call me?
Chiun: I called you a clumsy oaf. You drive like a monkey in heat.
Remo Williams: You know, Chiun, you're a real pain in the ass.
Chiun: That is because it is the shortest route to your brain!
[Chiun pulls the trigger on a revolver, click, click, click]
Remo Williams: You used the other four yesterday.
Chiun: [Chiun fires a round nearly hitting Remo in the head] I reloaded.
Harold Smith: Guard, protect and cherish your land, for there is no afterlife for a place that started out as Heaven. Charles M. Russell, Montana, 1926.
Chiun: Do you know why Americans call it fast food?
[Remo shakes his head "no."]
Chiun: Because it speeds them on the way to the grave.
[Chiun laughs at his little joke. Remo doesn't laugh]
Chiun: As I feared; you have no sense of humor.
Chiun: [having just sprinted across the surface of a lake] You must run *very* fast.
Conn MacCleary: We've done some work on you.
Remo Williams: [starts to look under his sheets]
Conn MacCleary: Just your face.
Remo Williams: You better have a damn good reason!
Conn MacCleary: We did. You're ugly.
[Remo dangles from a car on the Wonder Wheel]
Remo Williams: Jesus!
Chiun: Concentrate! This is NO time for prayer!
Gen. Scott Watson: So listen to this, George. Lyman four-putts. Four-putts, mind you. I thought he'd have a stroke. And I'd have claimed it if he had.
Conn MacCleary: All I can promise you is terror for breakfast, pressure for lunch, and aggravation for sleep. Your vacations will be two minutes when you're not looking over your shoulder, and if you live to draw a pension, it'll be a miracle.
Remo Williams: Are there any disadvantages?
Conn MacCleary: Hell, I'm lucky I've lasted *this* long.
'Doctor' in soap opera: Jim, the leg has got to come off.
[Crashing chord on organ]
'Jim' in soap opera: No! No! I was gonna be an All-American!
'Doctor' in soap opera: Well, now you can - you can be all-American for courage!
Remo Williams: Do you always talk like a Chinese fortune cookie?
[Outraged, Chiun strikes Remo in his solar plexus. Remo stumbles to the window, partially paralyzed, and in pain]
Chiun: Chinese! *Korean* is the most perfect creature ever to sanctify the earth with the imprint of its foot.
Chiun: Place your hands behind your head.
[Remo complies, then doubles over from a blow from Chiun, too fast to be seen ]
Chiun: I did not say keep them there. Your reflexes are pitiful! The seasons move faster.
Remo Williams: [Remo hears Chiun singing a song in Korean] Is it painful?
Chiun: I was singing an old Korean love song.
Remo Williams: It's a wonder the race isn't extinct.
Chiun: Karate, Kung Fu, Ninjitsu - they are but shadows. Sinanju is the Sun.
Chiun: Remember, perfection is a road, not a destination.
Conn MacCleary: Didn't I tell you? We don't use that 'bang bang' stuff. Your mind and your body become your weapon. That's what your new pal Chiun is going to teach you.