Anderson: What's advertising but a legalized con game? And what the hell's marriage? Extortion, prostitution, soliciting with a government stamp on it. And what the hell's your stock market? A fixed horse race. Some business guy steals a bank, he's a big success story. Face in all the magazines. Some other guy steals the magazine and he's busted.
Dr. No: That's a Dom Perignon '55. It would be a pity to break it.
James Bond: I prefer the '53 myself.
James Bond: One takes cyanide, another would let her arm be broken, neither will talk. Who puts that sort of fear into people?
Hotel Valet: One medium dry vodka martini, mixed like you said, sir, and not stirred.
James Bond: Thank you.
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