Amy: Sometimes magma can find one of those fissures and rise up through it.
Roark: What's magma?
Roark: Lava? Right here in L.A?
Amy: It is one of the possibilities.
Roark: We have a history of that here in the downtown area?
Rachel: Paricutin... 1943, a Mexican farmer sees smoke coming out of the middle of his cornfield. A week later there's a volcano a thousand feet high. There's no history of anything until it happens. Then there is.
Roark: I gave that woman my child, she gave me this card.
Woman: Mike, you have a call on your private line.
Roark: Oh, that'll be my little girl wanting a tattoo.
Roark: We're going to put as many people in front of it as it takes. Listen up, people! Let me tell you what's south of us: no more museums, no more department stores, just homes! People! If we turn and run now, they're going to be defenseless! You don't like my plan? That's good. Give me a another plan, but don't tell me we're backing out.