Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005)
John Smith: [during a car chase] I never told you, but I was married once before.
Jane Smith: [slams on the brakes]
John Smith: What's wrong with you?
Jane Smith: [hitting John] You're what's wrong with me John.
John Smith: It was just a drunken Vegas thing.
Jane Smith: Oh, that's better. That's *much* better.
Jane Smith: What's her name and social security number?
John Smith: No, you're not gonna kill her.
Jane Smith: Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet.
John Smith: I guess that's what happens in the end, you start thinking about the beginning.
John Smith: Your aim's as bad as your cooking sweetheart... and that's saying something!
John Smith: Dance with me.
Jane Smith: You don't dance.
John Smith: It was just my cover, sweetheart.
Jane Smith: Was sloth your cover, too?
[about the new curtains Jane bought]
Jane Smith: If you don't like them we can take them back.
John Smith: All right, I don't like them.
Jane Smith: [pause] You'll get used to them.
Jane Smith: Wait, why do I get the girl gun?
John Smith: Are you kidding me?
Jane Smith: [after shooting through a wall at John] Still alive, baby?
John Smith: We have an unusual problem here, Jane. You obviously want me dead, and I'm less and less concerned for your well-being.
Jane Smith: Any last words?
John Smith: The new curtains are hideous.
John Smith: [after Jane escapes on a high wire] Chicken shit!
Jane Smith: Pussy!
Eddie: Tell me you got smart and that you killed that lying bitch.
Jane Smith: This lying bitch?
Eddie: Guess that was just wishful thinking.
Jane Smith: That vacation in Aspen, you left early, why?
John Smith: Jean-Luc Gespar.
Jane Smith: Damn, I wanted him.
John Smith: I got it.
John Smith: That's the second time you've tried to kill me today.
Jane Smith: Oh, come on, it was just a little bomb.
Eddie: You gotta take this bitch out!
John Smith: Don't tell me how to handle my wife.
Jane Smith: My parents died when I was five. I'm an orphan.
John Smith: Who was that kind fellow who gave you away at our wedding?
Jane Smith: Paid actor.
John Smith: I said, I said I saw your dad on "Fantasy Island"!
John Smith: [just before running over an assassin with the minivan] These fuckers get younger every year.
Jane Smith: I thought I told you not to bother me at the office, honey.
John Smith: Well, you are still Mrs. Smith.
Jane Smith: Well, so are a lot of girls.
John Smith: I can't believe I brought my real parents to our wedding.
John Smith: [angry that Benjamin had blown their cover] You burn the picture after you get the assignment! It's the first thing you learn!
Benjamin: Oh, I must have missed that day. Just like you missed the one about not marrying the enemy.
Jane Smith: [referring to the pursuing cars] They're bulletproof!
John Smith: [having not heard and shot at the cars] They're bulletproof!
John Smith: [after Jane accidentally throws a knife that punctures his leg] We'll talk about this later.
John Smith: [after having accidentally shot at his wife, Mr. Smith is on the roof of her car while she's trying to throw him off] Come on, let's talk about this! You don't want to go to bed angry!
John Smith: [while dancing, after Jane asked what had happened to they're marriage] I have a theory, newly developed.
Jane Smith: I'm breathless to hear it.
John Smith: I think you killed us.
Jane Smith: Provocative.
John Smith: Why do you care? I was just a cover
Jane Smith: Who says you were just a cover?
John Smith: [pauses] Wasn't I?
John Smith: [at marriage counseling] Ask us the sex question.
Jane Smith: [whispers] John.
John Smith: [softly with his fingers out for ten] Ten.
Benjamin: [while in the middle of the desert] Oh, look. More desert.
[both have discovered that they were on the desert and one tried to kill the other]
John Smith: I missed you.
Jane Smith: I missed you too.
John Smith: Option A: You talk, we listen, no pain. Option B: You don't talk, I remove your thumbs with my pliers, it will hurt. Option C: I like to vary the details a bit but the punchline is... you die.
John Smith: What's new?
Eddie: Same old. People need killing.
Jane Smith: You really expect me to roll over and play dead?
John Smith: Well, you should be used to it after five years of marriage.
Jane Smith: Six... and I'm not leaving.
John Smith: Come to Daddy.
Jane Smith: [after she bashes him with a teapot and headbutts him] Who's your Daddy now?
John Smith: [searching for Jane, holding a pistol] Sweetheart...!
[John has just returned from shooting Lucky at the bar]
Jane Smith: Hey baby. I didn't hear you downstairs.
John Smith: I went down to the sports bar. Put a little money on the game.
Jane Smith: How'd you do?
John Smith: I got Lucky.
John Smith: [both pointing guns at each other; John drops his] You want it? It's yours.
Jane Smith: Don't! C'mon! C'mon!
Jane Smith: There's this huge space between us, and it just keeps filling up with everything that we *don't* say to each other. What's that called?
Marriage Counselor: Marriage.
Benjamin: [while being interrogated and tortured by John Smith] Can I have a soda or a juice or...
Benjamin: [Jane hits him with the telephone] A! A! Option A! Ow, that hurt.
John Smith: Ok, that was a nice shot.
Lucky: What? You're looking for a job or something?
John Smith: You are the job.
[John kills everybody in the room]
John Smith: [looking at the cards at the table] Pair of threes.
John Smith: How many? Ok... I'll go first, then. I don't keep exact count, but I'd say, uh, high 50s, low 60s. I mean, I know I've been around the block an all, but...
Jane Smith: 312.
John Smith: What? How?
Jane Smith: Some were two at a time.
Eddie: Did you get a look at him?
John Smith: Little thing. Buck ten, buck fifteen tops.
Eddie: Maybe he was Filipino!
John Smith: I'm not even sure it was a him.
Eddie: You saying you had your ass handed to you by some girl?
John Smith: I think so. A pro.
John Smith: I never went to MIT. Notre Dame. Art history major.
Jane Smith: Art?
John Smith: History! It's reputable.
John Smith: That left of yours is a thing of beauty.
Jane Smith: Mmm. You take it well.
John Smith: [after firing a rocket launcher] We should so not be allowed to buy these.
Marriage Counselor: On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the happiness of your marriage?
Jane Smith: 8.
John Smith: Wait. Could you clarify? Is 10 the highest? 10 being perfectly happy and 1 being totally miserable or...
Marriage Counselor: Just respond instinctively.
John Smith: Ok. Ready?
John Smith: [hitman from the BMW opens the van's left door. John opens the other van door and yanks the hitman through] These doors are handy.
Eddie: Tempting but I don't get out of bed for less than half a million dollars.
Girls walking by House: What's going on, Mrs. Smith?
Jane Smith: Garden party, girls.
John Smith: [hotwiring a neighbor's minivan] He's had my barbecue set for months.
John Smith: I realise you witnessed the Mrs. and I working through a few domestic issues. That's regrettable but don't take that to be a sign of weakness, that would be a mistake on your part.
[Jane is drumming her fingers impatiently]
John Smith: Honey!
Jane Smith: Wrap it up.
John Smith: Maybe it's not such a good idea to undermine me in front of the hostage - sends a mixed message.
Jane Smith: Sorry.
John Smith: Girls. Where was I?
Benjamin: Mistake on your part.
John Smith: Shut up.
John Smith: Careful, Jane. I can push the button any time I like.
Jane Smith: Baby, you couldn't find the button with both hands and a map.
John Smith: [talking about their predicament] So what do we do, Jane? Shoot it out here? Hope for the best?
Jane Smith: Well, that would be a shame because they would probably ask me to leave once you are dead.
Eddie: [at the diner] Well this shouldn't be that difficult, I mean how many chicks are hitters out there? Ya know what I mean?
Breakfast Diner Waitress: You guys want any dessert?
Eddie: What do ya have honey?
Breakfast Diner Waitress: Ice cream...
Eddie: Ice cream? That sounds delicious, what flavors d'ya have?
Breakfast Diner Waitress: Chocolate and Vanilla...
Eddie: I don't like either of those, separately, but maybe mixed together, that could be... a nice lil dish, you know what I mean? And not just a little pink spoon, a like the whole sundae...
[winks to the waitress]
Breakfast Diner Waitress: Could be arranged...
Eddie: Could be arranged, d'ya hear that? Like to have her kick my ass... d'ya know what I mean?
John Smith: The first time we met, what was your first thought?
Jane Smith: You tell me.
John Smith: I thought... I thought you looked like Christmas morning, I don't know how else to say it.
Jane Smith: And why are you telling me this now?
John Smith: I guess in the end you start thinking about the beginning... so there it is, I thought you should know.
Jane Smith: You ever have trouble sleeping after?
John Smith: No.
Jane Smith: Me neither.
John Smith: [after his wife checks his crotch for a weapon] That's all John, sweetheart.
Eddie: Are you saying you had your ass handed to you by some girl?
John Smith: I think so.
John Smith: Did you hear the helicopter dropping me off that night for our anniversary dinner?
Jane Smith: No. Oh, percussion grenades. I was partially deaf that evening.
Jane Smith: I told you to wait for my signal, you didn't wait for my signal.
John Smith: Well, I improvised.
Jane Smith: You deviated from the plan.
John Smith: The plan was flawed.
Jane Smith: The plan was not flawed.
John Smith: Anal.
Jane Smith: *Organized.*
John Smith: Jane, 90% of this job is instinct.
Jane Smith: Well, your instinct set off *every* alarm in the building!
John Smith: My instinct got the job done. It may not have been the Jane show...
Jane Smith: No, it was the John show: it was half-assed. Like Christmas, like our anniversary, like the time you forgot to bring my mother's birthday present.
John Smith: Your *fake* mother's birthday present.
Jane Smith: The point is, you are *always* the first to break team.
John Smith: You don't want a team, you want a servant for hire.
Jane Smith: I want someone I can count on.
John Smith: [sigh] Jane, there's no *air* around you anymore.
Jane Smith: [irritated] Oh. OK, what is that supposed to mean?
John Smith: That means there's no room for mistakes, no mistakes whatsoever. No spontaneity. Who can answer to that?
Jane Smith: Well, you don't have to. Because this isn't even a real marriage.
Benjamin: [locked up in the back of the van, in a bewildered voice] *Who are you people?*
Jane Smith: [yelling] Shut up!
John Smith: [comparing injuries with Jane] I'm slightly colorblind. Retinal scarring.
Jane Smith: [comparing injuries with John] I can't feel anything in these three fingers.
Eddie: Did you get any other details on her besides her weight class?
John Smith: [mumbles while chewing food] Laptop
Eddie: I'm sorry? You're in the whole zone right now- I'm having a hard time talkin' to ya.
John Smith: [swallows and says louder] Laptop!
Eddie: OK. Laptop.
John Smith: You live with your mother.
Eddie: [offended] Why would you bring her into this, she happens to be a first class lady!
[on living with his mother]
Eddie: She cooks and cleans. And *I'm* the dummy?
John Smith: Does that include weekends?
[when asked how many times they have sex]
Marriage Counselor: How often do you have sex?
Jane Smith: I don't understand the question.
Jane Smith: There's nowhere I'd rather be than here with you.
Eddie: This broad is not your wife, she's the enemy.
John Smith: She tried to kill me.
Eddie: They all try to kill you. Slowly, painfully, cripplingly, and then wham. They hurt you. How you going to handle it?
John Smith: [grabs assault rifle] I'm going to borrow this.
Eddie: I like where your head's at, man.
John Smith: [at the marriage counselor's] OK, I'll go first. Um... Let me say, uh, we don't really need to be here. See, we've been married for five years.
Jane Smith: Six.
John Smith: [chastened] Five, six years.
Mom #1: Eddie?
Eddie: [shouts] Mom! We are on high alert here. I almost killed you right then! You do not even realize!
Mom #1: [pause] Never mind.
John Smith: We're going to have to re-do every conversation we've ever had.
Eddie: I live with my mom because I choose to. She's the only woman I've ever trusted.
Jane Smith: Have you been selling big guns to bad people?
John Smith: Let's see if we can't get a tune out of this trombone.
John Smith: [comparing injuries with Jane] Three ribs. Broken eye socket. Perforated eardrum.
Jane Smith: [dancing with John, he's just finished searching her for weapons] Satisfied?
John Smith: Not for years.
Mickey - Dive Bar Patron #1: Oh, he's pulled something!
Jane Smith: You were bait.
Benjamin: In a manner of speaking.
Jane Smith: *Were* bait or *are* bait?
Jasmine: What? Your husband is the shooter? That's impossible.
Jane Smith: Really?