Dianne Wainford: What sort of policeman are you?
Alex Cross: I'm a forensic psychologist. It's a fancy way of saying I'm a guy who walks into a room like that and determines the hows and whys.
Ed Exley: A hooker cut to look like Lana Turner is still a hooker.
Johnny Stampanato: Hey!
Ed Exley: She looks just like Lana Turner.
Jack Vincennes: She is Lana Turner.
Ed Exley: What?
Jack Vincennes: She IS Lana Turner.
Lorelei 'Lori': Are you going to bring me that martini, or do I have to suck it out of the glass from here?
Raiden: It cannot be!
Sindel: Oh, but it can and it is!
Ernie: He's Hitler with a tail. He's "The Omen" with whiskers. Even Nostradamus didn't see him coming.
Julianne Potter: What I mean, when I say annoyingly perfect, is that there is nothing annoying about her perfection. It's vulnerable and endearing... and that is annoying as shit.
George Downes: Ahh... you like her.
Julianne Potter: If I didn't have to hate her, I'd adore her.
T. Paul: That mask sweaty?
Nick Beam: I think that's the one.
T. Paul: I hid it behind my balls. Ha ha.
Postman: The President's name... is Richard Starkey.
Alex Shaw: I gotta get my girl.
Martin Barnfield: We're cooking here. This is a stew, a gumbo, a jambalaya, if you will. We're just jamming.
Admiral Roebuck: With all due respect, M, sometimes I don't think you have the balls for this job.
M: Perhaps. But the advantage is, I don't have to think with them all the time.
Agnes Stouffer: If you boys have been throwing any more firecrackers in my pool again, I'm gonna beat your butts until your nose bleeds.
Horse: No-one said anything to me about the full monty.
Lt. Blondell: Lieutenant, why are you doing this?
Lt. Jordan O'Neil: Do you ask the men the same question?
Lt. Blondell: As a matter of fact: yes, I do ask them.
Lt. Jordan O'Neil: And what do they say?
Lt. Blondell: "Cause I get to blow shit up."
Lt. Jordan O'Neil: Well, there you go.
Gordon Szalinski: You are dead meat, mister.
Wayne Szalinski: Gordon, you're three-quarters of an inch tall, now's not the time.
Caroline Sexton: Coffee? This is a coffee-drinking ordnun? Ohh, praise the Lord, sister.
Willa Weston: What are you doing?
Vince McCain: I'm freezing him.
Willa Weston: Why?
Vince McCain: He's gotta be cryogenically frozen until they find a cure.
Willa Weston: Yeah, a cure? Vince, he has a bullet in the brain.
Vince McCain: Well, get more ice.
Willa Weston: Vince, there is no cure for a bullet in the brain. It is very fatal.
Detective Harlan Regis: I think the president's gonna become an international suspect.