Bernard: I don't think I like what you're inferring, Mr. Cornell...
Dexter Cornell: [condescendingly] Implying. When I say it, that's implying. How you take it, that's inferring.
Bernard: I see. Infer this.
Dexter Cornell: [laughing] So this is what it's all about: some kid's damn homework!
Dexter Cornell: So, who are you going to kill for your next novel?
Hal Petersham: All I need is this one break; after that, I can write anything I want. And you can bet that I won't sit on my laurels like you did!
Dexter Cornell: Well, at least they *were* my laurels.
Mrs. Fitzwaring: How did you know about Nick?
Dexter Cornell: I'm psychic.
Bernard: Good. Then you know what's going to happen to you.
Sydney Fuller: So, who are you gonna punch a confession out of next?
Sydney Fuller: I just wanted to spend the night with you, not Eternity!
Dexter Cornell: Is that the best your petty, prosaic little mind can come up with?
Detective Ulmer: It's a petty, prosaic little world, Mr. Cornell.
Hal Petersham: You had it... You had it... and you pissed it away... goddamit Dex... you had a talent... You had a talent that other people...
Dexter Cornell: [pulls a gun on Hal] ... kill for?
Hal Petersham: Yeah that's right kill for... isn't that what it's all about? Publish or Perish?
Dexter Cornell: [as he fires his gun] Perish