Casino Royale (2006)
Vesper Lynd: [after discussing poker skills on the train] What else can you surmise, Mr. Bond?
James Bond: About you, Miss Lynd? Well, your beauty's a problem. You worry you won't be taken seriously.
Vesper Lynd: Which one can say of any attractive woman with half a brain.
James Bond: True. But this one overcompensates by wearing slightly masculine clothing. Being more aggressive than her female colleagues. Which gives her a somewhat *prickly* demeanor, and ironically enough, makes it less likely for her to be accepted and promoted by her male superiors, who mistake her insecurities for arrogance. Now, I'd have normally gone with "only child," but by the way you ignored the quip about your parents... I'm going to have to go with "orphan."
Vesper Lynd: All right... by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means that you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity: hence that chip on your shoulder. And since you're first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.
[he smiles but says nothing]
Vesper Lynd: Oh, you are? I like this poker thing. And that makes perfect sense! Since MI6 looks for maladjusted young men, who give little thought to sacrificing others in order to protect queen and country. You know... former SAS types with easy smiles and expensive watches.
[Glances at his wrist]
Vesper Lynd: Rolex?
James Bond: Omega.
Vesper Lynd: Beautiful. Now, having just met you, I wouldn't go as far as calling you a cold-hearted bastard...
James Bond: No, of course not.
Vesper Lynd: But it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine. You think of women as disposable pleasures, rather than meaningful pursuits. So as charming as you are, Mr. Bond, I will be keeping my eye on our government's money - and off your perfectly-formed arse.
James Bond: You noticed?
Vesper Lynd: Even accountants have imagination. How was your lamb?
James Bond: Skewered! One sympathizes.
Vesper Lynd: Good evening, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: Good evening, Ms. Lynd.
James Bond: I'm sorry. That last hand... nearly killed me.
Vesper Lynd: Am I going to have a problem with you, Mr. Bond?
James Bond: No, don't worry, you're not my type.
Vesper Lynd: Smart?
James Bond: Single.
James Bond: Dry Martini.
Bartender: Oui, monsieur.
James Bond: Wait... three measures of Gordon's; one of vodka; half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice, and add a thin slice of lemon peel.
Bartender: Yes, sir.
Tomelli: You know, I'll have one of those.
Infante: So will I.
Felix Leiter: My friend, bring me one as well, keep the fruit.
Le Chiffre: [annoyed] That's it? Hm? Anyone want to play poker now?
Felix Leiter: Someone's in a hurry.
James Bond: Why is it that people who can't take advice always insist on giving it?
James Bond: [laughing - after being stuck five times with a knotted rope] Now the whole world's gonna know that you died scratching my balls!
Le Chiffre: [holding the rope over one shoulder] Oh... I died? I died?
James Bond: [laughing] Yeah! 'Cause no matter what you do, I'm not gonna give you the password which means your clients are gonna hunt you down and cut you into little pieces of meat while you're still breathing. Because if you kill me, there'll be nowhere else to hide.
Le Chiffre: [rounds on Bond] But you are SO WRONG! 'Cause even after I slaughtered you and your little girlfriend, your people would still welcome me with open arms... because they need... what I know.
James Bond: [quietly] The big picture.
[in another room, Vesper screams. Bond and Le Chiffre notice this]
Le Chiffre: Give me the password, and I will at least let her live.
[slaps Bond on the cheek again]
Le Chiffre: Bond, do it soon enough and she might even be in one piece.
[Bond considers this, then looks at Le Chiffre and laughs. Le Chiffre laughs as well, and realizes that Bond will not give in to the torture]
Le Chiffre: You *really* aren't going to tell me, are you?
James Bond: [laughing] No.
James Bond: I've got a little itch, down there. Would you mind?
James Bond: [after Bond has just lost his 10 million in the game, to the bartender] Vodka-martini.
Bartender: Shaken or stirred?
James Bond: Do I look like I give a damn?
Vesper Lynd: You're not going to let me in there, are you? You've got your armour back on. That's that.
James Bond: I have no armour left. You've stripped it from me. Whatever is left of me - whatever is left of me - whatever I am - I'm yours.
Vesper Lynd: It doesn't bother you? Killing all those people?
James Bond: Well I wouldn't be very good at my job if it did.
Le Chiffre: You changed your shirt, Mr Bond. I hope our little game isn't causing you to perspire.
James Bond: A little. But I won't consider myself to be in trouble until I start weeping blood.
Vesper Lynd: You love me?
James Bond: Enough to travel the world with you until one of us has to take an honest job... which I think is going to have to be you, because I have no idea what an honest job is.
James Bond: The name's Bond... James Bond.
James Bond: I think I'll call it a Vesper.
Vesper Lynd: Because of the bitter aftertaste?
James Bond: No, because once you've tasted it, that's all you want to drink.
Vesper Lynd: There isn't enough room for me and your ego.
Vesper Lynd: I can't resist waking you. Every time I do you look at me as if you hadn't seen me in years. Makes me feel reborn.
James Bond: If you had just been born wouldn't you be naked?
Le Chiffre: [after striking Bond with a knotted rope] You know, I never understood all these elaborate tortures. It's the simplest thing... to cause more pain than a man can possibly endure.
[strikes Bond again, this time harder]
Le Chiffre: And of course, it's not only the immediate agony, but the knowledge... that if you do not yield soon enough... there will be little left to identify you as a man.
[drags up a stool, sits down next to Bond and slaps him on the cheek]
Le Chiffre: The only question remains: will you yield, in time?
Dryden: How did he die?
James Bond: Your contact? Not well.
Dryden: Made you feel it, did he? Well, you needn't worry. The second is...
[Bond shoots Dryden]
James Bond: Yes... considerably.
James Bond: I have a dinner jacket.
Vesper Lynd: There are dinner jackets and dinner jackets; this is the latter. And I need you looking like a man who belongs at that table.
James Bond: How?... It's tailored.
Vesper Lynd: I sized you up the moment we met.
Le Chiffre: [trying to keep calm] I'll get the money. Tell them I'll, I'll get the money.
Mr. White: Money isn't as valuable to our organization as knowing who to trust.
Le Chiffre: Wow. You've taken good care of your body. Such... a waste.
Vesper Lynd: So?
James Bond: You want to do what to me?
Vesper Lynd: You've lost me completely.
James Bond: You just said you can't wait to get me back to the room.
Le Chiffre: I'm afraid that your friend Mathis... is really... my friend Mathis.
James Bond: [Bond has just won Dimitrios's car in a game of poker] Oh, and the valet ticket.
M: Who the hell do they think they are? I report to the Prime Minister and even he's smart enough not to ask me what we do. Have you ever seen such a bunch of self-righteous, ass-covering prigs? They don't care what we do; they care what we get photographed doing. And how the hell could Bond be so stupid? I give him double-O status and he celebrates by shooting up an embassy. Is the man deranged? And where the hell is he? In the old days if an agent did something that embarrassing he'd have a good sense to defect. Christ, I miss the Cold War.
Vesper Lynd: If the only thing left of you was your smile and your little finger, you'd still be more of a man than anyone I've ever known.
James Bond: That's because you know what I can do with my little finger...
Felix Leiter: I should have introduced myself, seeing as we're related. Felix Leiter, a brother from Langley.
[sees that Bond has a knife]
Felix Leiter: You should have faith. As long as you keep your head about you, I think you have him.
James Bond: Had. Excuse me.
Felix Leiter: You're not buying in?
James Bond: No.
Felix Leiter: Listen, I'm bleeding chips. I'm not going to last much longer. You have a better chance. I'll stake you. I'm saying I'll give you the money to keep going. Just one thing: you pull it off, the CIA bring him in.
James Bond: What about the winnings?
Felix Leiter: Does it look like we need the money?
James Bond: [as Solange is kissing her way down Bond's chest] Can I ask you a personal question?
Solange: Now would seem an appropriate time.
Villiers: He's logged into our Secure Website, using your name and password.
M: [annoyed] How the hell does he *know* these things?
James Bond: I always thought M was a randomly assigned initial, I had no idea it stood for...
M: Utter one more syllable and I'll have you killed.
James Bond: [upon receiving their alias documents] I'm Mr. Arlington Beech, professional gambler, and you're Miss Stephanie Broadchest...
Vesper Lynd: I am not!
James Bond: You're going to have to trust me on this.
Vesper Lynd: Oh no I don't.
James Bond: [after reading a note left by M and seeing the Aston Martin] I love you too M.
Le Chiffre: Weeping blood comes merely from a derangement of the tear duct, my dear General. Nothing sinister.
[considers his cards and moves his chips forward]
Le Chiffre: All in. I have two pair and you have a 17.4% chance of making your straight.
Doctor #1: [to Bond, who is going into cardiac arrest] Stay calm and don't interrupt. Because you'll be dead within two minutes unless you do exactly what I tell you.
James Bond: I'm all ears.
M: I knew it was too early to promote you.
James Bond: Well, I understand double 0s have a very short life expectancy... so your mistake will be short-lived.
M: [as Solange's dead body is carried away] I would ask you if you could remain emotionally detached, but that's not your problem, is it, Bond?
James Bond: No.
M: Sometimes we pay so much attention to our enemies, we forget to watch our friends as well.
James Bond: So you want me to be half-monk, half-hitman.
M: Any thug can kill. I need you to take your ego out of the equation.
M: You've got a bloody cheek!
James Bond: Sorry. I'll shoot the camera first next time.
M: Or yourself. You stormed into an Embassy. You violated the only absolutely inviolate rule of international relations, and why? So you could kill a nobody. We wanted to question him, not to kill him! For God's sake! You're supposed to display some kind of judgement.
James Bond: I did. I thought one less bomb maker in the world would be a good thing.
M: Exactly. One bomb maker. We're trying to figure out how an entire network of terrorist groups is financed and you give us one bomb maker. Hardly the big picture, wouldn't you say?
Mr. White: Hello?
James Bond: Mr. White? We need to talk.
Mr. White: Who is this?
[a shot rings out. White's leg is shattered. He drops to the ground in obvious pain and drags himself toward the house. He is stopped at the steps by the feet of a man in a suit. He looks up to see Bond with a cell phone in one hand and an assault weapon in the other]
James Bond: The name's Bond. James Bond.
[Bond, having been poisoned, is attempting to use a defibrillator on himself while a doctor talks him through the process over the phone, but the defibrillator has come disconnected. Bond passes out and his heart stops. Vesper arrives, reconnects the defibrillator, and uses it to restart Bond's heart. He regains consciousness]
James Bond: You OK?
Vesper Lynd: Me?
James Bond: Thank you.
Hot Room Doctor: You're welcome. Now get yourself off to a hospital.
James Bond: I will do. As soon as I've won this game.
Vesper Lynd: You're not seriously going back there?
James Bond: I wouldn't dream of it.
Villiers: [calling M up in the middle of the night] He's in the Bahamas.
M: You woke me to share his holiday plans?
Solange: [they are kissing on the floor of his beachfront suite] You like married women... don't you, James?
James Bond: It keeps things simple.
Solange: [laughs] What is it about bad men? You... my husband. I had so many chances to be happy, so many nice guys. Why can't nice guys be more like you?
James Bond: Because then they'd be bad.
Solange: [kissing him some more] Mmmmm, yeah...!
Steven Obanno: [after swinging a machete to cut off Valenka's hand, he stops just short of her flesh and looks at her admiringly] Not a word of protest. You should find a new boyfriend.
Dryden: [pointing a gun at Bond] Shame, we barely got to know each other.
[Pulls the trigger, and the gun doesn't fire]
James Bond: [holding up the magazine he'd presumably removed from Dryden's gun] I know where you keep your gun. 'Suppose that's something.
Vesper Lynd: Ten million was wired to your account in Montenegro, with the contingency for five more if I deem it a prudent investment. I suppose you've given some thought to the notion that if you lose, our government will have directly financed terrorism.
Dryden: Benefits of being section chief. I'd know if anyone had been promoted to double-oh status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills, and it takes...
James Bond: Two.
[cuts to Bond fighting Dryden's contact]
Steven Obanno: Do you believe in God, Mr. Le Chiffre?
Le Chiffre: No. I believe in a reasonable rate of return.
Carter: Looks like our man, burn scars on his face.
James Bond: Hmm. I wonder if bomb-makers are insured for things like that.
Alex Dimitrios: I'm having a hard time seeing how this is my fault. It's your plan. All I did was get you the man.
Le Chiffre: A man who was under surveillance by the British Secret Service... which makes me wonder if I can trust you at all.
Alex Dimitrios: Then don't. I couldn't care less. But, I do care about my reputation. I have someone else willing to do the job. He just needs the particulars, and payment.
Le Chiffre: Give our guests five minutes to leave... or throw them overboard.
Vesper Lynd: This is me in character pissed off because you're losing so damn hard we won't be here past midnight. Oddly enough, my character's feelings mirror my own.
M: Arrogance and self-awareness seldom go hand in hand.
Mathis: It's amazing what you can do with Photoshop these days.
James Bond: You want to do what to me!
Vesper Lynd: You've lost me.
James Bond: You just said you can't wait to get me back up to the room. Let's go.
James Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets.
Dryden: If the theatrics are suppose to scare me you've got the wrong man Bond.
[about Le Chiffre]
James Bond: Do you want a clean kill or do you want to send a message?
Vesper Lynd: James, I want you to know that if all that was left of you was your smile and your little finger, you'd still be more of a man than any I've known.
James Bond: That's because you know what I can do with my little finger.
[Dryden, an MOD director, comes into his office late at night. After sitting at his desk, he finds James Bond sitting in the shadows]
James Bond: M doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets.
Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man, Bond. If M was so sure that I was bent, she'd have sent a double-0. Benefits of being section chief, I'd know if anyone had been promoted to double-0 status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills, and it takes...
James Bond: Two.
Dryden: [pulls a gun and points it at Bond] Shame... we barely got to know each other.
[pulls the trigger, but nothing happens]
James Bond: [holds up the clip from Dryden's pistol] I know where you keep your gun. I suppose that's something.
Dryden: [lowers his gun] True. How did he die?
James Bond: Your contact? Not well.
[cut to a scene of Bond savagely beating a man to death in a bathroom]
Dryden: Made you feel it, did he? Well, you needn't worry. The second is...
[Bond pulls his gun and kills Dryden]
James Bond: Yes... considerably