Dr. Lewis Jaffe: Just me and my little knife! Snip snip - slice slice... can you believe it?
Harry Tuttle: ...well, that's a pipe of a different color.
Charlie, Department of Works: Bloody typical, they've gone back to metric without telling us.
Harry Tuttle: Bloody paperwork. Huh.
Sam Lowry: I suppose one has to expect a certain amount.
Harry Tuttle: Why? I came into this game for the action, the excitement. Go anywhere, travel light, get in, get out, wherever there's trouble, a man alone. Now they got the whole country sectioned off, you can't make a move without a form.
Mrs. Terrain: There's been a little complication with my complication.
Sam Lowry: Is that one of your triplets?
Jack Lint: Yeah, probably.
Spoor: Where'd you get this from, eh? Out yer nostril?
T.V. Interviewer: How do you account for the fact that the bombing campaign has been going on for thirteen years?
Mr. Helpmann: Beginners' luck.
Kurtzmann: Has anybody seen Sam Lowry?
Mr. Helpmann: Bad sportsmanship. A ruthless minority of people seem to have forgotten good old-fashioned virtues. They just can't stand seeing the other fellow win. If these people would just play the game.
Sam Lowry: Excuse me, Dawson, can you put me through to Mr. Helpmann's office?
Dawson: I'm afraid I can't sir. You have to go through the proper channels.
Sam Lowry: And you can't tell me what the proper channels are, because that's classified information?
Dawson: I'm glad to see the Ministry's continuing its tradition of recruiting the brightest and best, sir.
Sam Lowry: Thank you, Dawson.
Sam Lowry: I only know you got the wrong man.
Jack Lint: Information Transit got the wrong man. I got the right man. The wrong one was delivered to me as the right man, I accepted him on good faith as the right man. Was I wrong?
Mrs. Buttle: What have you done with his body?
Harry Tuttle: Listen, kid, we're all in it together.
Jill Layton: Care for a little necrophilia? Hmmm?
Holly: Put it on, big boy. I won't look at your willy.
Sam Lowry: My name's Lowry. Sam Lowry. I've been told to report to Mr. Warrenn.
Porter - Information Retrieval: Thirtieth floor, sir. You're expected.
Sam Lowry: Um... don't you want to search me?
Porter - Information Retrieval: No sir.
Sam Lowry: Do you want to see my ID?
Porter - Information Retrieval: No need, sir.
Sam Lowry: But I could be anybody.
Porter - Information Retrieval: No you couldn't sir. This is Information Retrieval.