Panic Room (2002)
Meg: [on loudspeaker] Get out of my house!
Sarah: Say fuck!
Meg: [on loud speaker] FUCK!
Sarah: Mom! "Get the fuck out of my house"!
Meg: [on loudspeaker] Get the FUCK out of my house!
Meg: [Meg gives a goodnight kiss to Sarah] It's disgusting how much I love you.
Sarah: Tell me about it.
Sarah: [observing the Panic Room, with cameras and a steel door] My room! definitely my room!
Junior: How do we get into that room?
Junior: Hey! What is funny about this? Is this shit funny to you?
Burnham: Well, I spent the last 12 years of my life building these rooms specifically to keep out people like us.
Junior: It's all so ironic and amusing, okay? Now, how do we get in?
[after being told about panic room]
Meg: This whole thing makes me nervous.
Lydia Lynch: Why?
Meg: Ever read any Poe?
Lydia Lynch: No, but I loved her last album!
Junior: Any other schoolyard bullshit you wanna settle, or can we get the fuck back to work?
Raoul: Don't you take no tone with me, jerkwad, 'cause I'll shove it up your ass and snap it off.
Junior: You know what? You're a bus driver, *Raoul*! You live in Flatbush! So don't start spouting some Elmore Leonard bullshit you just heard because I saw that movie too.
Meg: He'll do something.
Sarah: No he won't.
Meg: He'll call the police.
Sarah: You don't know her, mom. She won't let him.
Meg: No, he knows there is trouble. He heard me. He's right across the park. That's why we got houses so close to each other. Just in case we needed each other. He'll help us!
Sarah: He won't.
Meg: [yells] Yes he will!
Meg: I'm sorry.
Sarah: No, I'm sorry. I was trying not to tell you.
Sarah: I'm dizzy and hungry.
Raoul: [to Sarah] Don't you look at me.
Burnham: Hey, all I know about this is what I've seen on TV. You gotta talk me through this.
[fills syringe with insulin]
Burnham: Nice house you guys got. Mom's rich?
Sarah: Dad's rich. Mom's just mad.
Burnham: Like this?
Sarah: Tap it.
Burnham: I wish I could put my kid in a place like this. Not that I didn't try. Just sometimes things they don't work out the way you want them to. Wasn't supposed to be like this. You weren't supposed to be here.
Burnham: Wasn't supposed to be like this.
Burnham: He's telling the truth.
Raoul: Yeah, he's telling the truth... you know how I know? Cause when I do this...
[Raoul points the gun at Burnham]
Raoul: ...people don't lie.
[Meg smashes the house's security cameras with a sledgehammer]
Raoul: Why the hell didn't we do that?
Junior: [looking through the medicine cabinet] How do you live in New York and not have a single percocet?
Sarah: Are you okay?
Sarah: Small space?
Meg: I'm okay.
Sarah: You can't wig out.
Meg: I know.
Sarah: I mean it.
Meg: I won't.
Sarah: You know, people never get buried alive anymore. I guess it used to happen all the time.
Sarah: Yeah, I read that.
Meg: And when did this happen all the time?
Sarah: 20, 30 years ago.
Meg: What are they doing now?
Sarah: I don't know.
Junior: [after swallowing a bunch of pills] All she's got is Nyquill and fucking Midol!
Officer Keeney: You don't look so good, ma'am.
Meg: And you, Officer Keeney, don't look so hot yourself.
[after Meg set the propane gas on fire scene]
Meg: [to Sarah] Are you okay?
Meg: [scolding] Promise me you will never do *ANYTHING* like that.
Sarah: [nods] I won't.
Burnham: Do you need this?
[Sarah nods yes]
Burnham: Can you do it yourself?
[Sarah nods no]
Burnham: What happens if you don't get it?
Sarah: [weak whispering] Coma. Die.
Meg: Hey. Enough. Mind the pizza?
Sarah: What do you mean?
Meg: Our first night. I should've thought of something special.
Sarah: I like pizza.
Sarah: Fuck him.
Sarah: Fuck her, too.
Meg: I agree. But don't.
Raoul: Say that shit about the money again, babycakes.
Junior: When? B-b-b-before?
Raoul: Yeah. B-b-b-b-b-b-before.
Raoul: [over P.A. system after having hand caught in the panic room door]
Raoul: You fucking bitch! You pull *any* shit like that again, I will fucking kill her! Do you hear me? If you step outside, I'll kill her! If I see a uniform inside this house, I'll cut her fucking throat! Do you understand?
Junior: Listen, goddamn it! I'm in charge here! Now what the hell is goin' on?
[Junior watches Raoul and Burnham hooking up the propane tank to the air duct]
Junior: Oh, this is good. This could work. I was just thinking we should do something like this!
Raoul: This kid has seen my face.
Burnham: Yeah, well, that's not my problem.
Raoul: Yeah it is. You're here with me. You're on the hook too.
Raoul: [Raoul looks at Sarah] Do one. Same price for the rest.
Burnham: Stay the fuck away from me.
Meg: Open the door so I can give her the shot.
Burnham: If we open the door you'll shoot us!
Meg: So give her the shot yourself!
Burnham: [hearing an ominous clicking sound] Turn the gas off. Turn the gas off right now.
Raoul: [after Junior breaks the mirror] That's seven years bad luck.
Raoul: [When the cops are at the door] She just killed her own kid.
Junior: [shouts] Worst that's gonna happen is... is they'll pass out. They'll have a hang over.
Burnham: How are we gonna get in there if they pass out, Junior?
Junior: [pauses] Cut it back a little.
Meg: [Sarah is riding her scooter alongside her mother] Sarah, do you have to ride that here?
Sarah: Mom, we're in the street.
Sarah: [Meg and Sarah are in the elevator trying to escape] What's going on?
Meg: People. In the house.
Burnham: This is what I do; if some idiot with a sledgehammer could break in, do you really think I'd still have a job?
Stephen Altman: [to Meg] Please don't do anything stupid.
[Meg to Stephen's girlfriend]
Meg: Put him on the phone, bitch!
Junior: [as they are arguing over siphoning propane into the Panic Room] Shut the fuck up. There are people trying to sleep over there.
Junior: [Junior is burned by flaming propaine gas and very mad] You fucking bitch! You fucking bitch! I'm coming in *there*!
Raoul: Calm the fuck down.
Raoul: Shut it... lock it... and get the fuck away from it.
Meg: If we stay calm everything will be fine, okay? Just stay calm.
Sarah: You're making me nervous.
Meg: I'm sorry.
Lydia Lynch: [First Lines] I wrote it all down: 4,200 square feet, four floors. Perfect. Courtyard in back, south-facing garden. Perfect.
Meg: Shouldn't we just wait for the car service?
Lydia Lynch: No, we'll sit in traffic forever.
Meg: Is that the listing sheet?
Lydia Lynch: There is no listing sheet. I heard about it this morning. It'll be gone by this afternoon.
Meg: Well, how many more after this one.
Lydia Lynch: None. You know how tight the market is.
SWAT Cop: I want to see the palms of your hands! Do you hear me? Open your hands!
[Forest opens his hand and there goes 22 million dollars up in the air]