Die Hard
1988
Businessman: You don't like flying, do you? John McClane: What gives you that idea? Businessman: You want to know the secret to surviving air travel? After you get where you're going, take off your shoes and your socks then walk around on the rug bare foot and make fists with your toes. John McClane: Fists with your toes? Businessman: I know, it sounds crazy. Trust me, I've been doing it for nine years. Yessir, better than a shower and a hot cup of coffee. John McClane: OK. (the businessman sees a gun in McClane's pocket) John McClane: It's okay. I'm a cop. Trust me, I've been doing this for eleven years.
Harry Ellis: Hey babe, I negotiate million dollar deals for breakfast. I think I can handle this Eurotrash.
Theo: Oh my God, the quarterback is toast.
John McClane: You throw quite a party. I didn't realize they celebrated Christmas in Japan. Joseph Takagi: Hey, we're flexible. Pearl Harbor didn't work out so we got you with tape decks.
Joseph Takagi: You want money? What kind of terrorists are you? Hans Gruber: Who said we were terrorists?
(McClane watches fire trucks approach the building) John McClane: C'mon baby, come ta' papa, I'll kiss ya' fuckin' dalmatian.
(Stealing the dead terrorist's shoes) John McClane: A hundred million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister.
(McClane tries to call up police) Supervisor: Attention, whoever you are. This channel is reserved for emergency calls only... John McClane: No fucking shit, lady. Do I sound like I'm ordering a pizza?
(Reading what McClane wrote on the dead terrorist's shirt) Hans Gruber: "Now I have a machine gun. Ho ho ho."
(Hans' radio turns on) Hans Gruber: I thought I told all of you, I want radio silence until further... John McClane: Ooooh, I'm very sorry Hans. I didn't get that message. Maybe you should've put it on the bulletin board. I figured since I've waxed Tony and Marco and his friend here, I figured you and Karl and Franco might be a little lonely, so I decided to give you a call. Hans Gruber: Eh, that's... very kind of you, considering you are a mysterious party crasher. You are most troublesome, for a security guard. John McClane: Bzzzt. Sorry Hans, wrong guess. Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really change? (Indicating cigarettes in dead man's pocket) Whoa, these are very bad for you. Hans Gruber: Who are you then? John McClane: Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench. The pain in the ass.
(On the radio) Hans Gruber: Mister Mystery Guest? Are you still there? John McClane: Yeah, I'm still here. Unless you wanna open the front door for me. Hans Gruber: Uh, no I'm afraid not. But you have me at a loss. You know my name but who are you? Just another American who saw too many movies as a child? Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne? Rambo? Marshall Dillon? John McClane: Was always kinda' partial to Roy Rogers actually. I really dig those sequined shirts. Hans Gruber: Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mister Cowboy? John McClane: Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.
Hans Gruber: "When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer." The benefits of a classical education.
Dwayne T. Robinson: We don't know shit, Powell. If there's hostages in there, how come no one's come to us with ransom demands? If there's terrorists in there, where's their list of demands? All we know is that whoever shot your car up is probably the same silly sonofabitch you've been talking to on that radio. Sergeant Al Powell: Excuse me sir. But what about the body that fell out the window? Dwayne T. Robinson: Well who knows? Maybe some stockbroker, got depressed.
(about McClane) Sergeant Al Powell: In fact, I think he's a cop. Maybe not LAPD, but he's definitely a badge. Dwayne T. Robinson: How do you know that? Sergeant Al Powell: A hunch, things he said. Like being able to spot a phony ID. Dwayne T. Robinson: Jesus Christ, Powell, he could be a fucking bartender for all we know.
Hans Gruber: I wanted this to be professional. Efficient, adroit, cooperative, not a lot to ask. Alas, your Mr Takagi did not see it that way, so he won't be joining us for the rest of his life.
Hans Gruber: I wanted this to be professional. Efficient. Adult. Cooperative. Not a lot to ask. Alas, your Mr Takagi did not see it that way... (now discusses the penalties Takagi has caused) So he won't be joining us for the rest of his life. (reall enforcing now but in a normal tone) We are prepared to go any way you make us. When we have achieved our aims you can either walk out of here... or be carried out. Decide now, each of you. (emphasizing) But remember that we have planned everything to the last detail. We are completely in change.
Hans Gruber: (evil smile) Shoot the glass.
Tony: The fire has been called off my friend. So you might as well come out and join the others. I promise I won't hurt you.
John McClane: (recalls his wife's invitation) Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs...
John McClane: Take *this* under advisement, jerkweed.
FBI Agent Johnson: I'm Agent Johnson, this is Special Agent Johnson. No relation.
Hans Gruber: This time John Wayne does not walk off into the sunset with Grace Kelly. John McClane: That was Gary Cooper, asshole.
FBI Agent Johnson: Figure we take out the terrorists. Lose twenty, twenty-five percent of the hostages. FBI Special Agent Johnson: I can live with that.
Holly Gennero McClane: After all your posturing, all your speeches, you're nothing but a common thief. Hans Gruber: I am an exceptional thief, Mrs McClane. And since I'm moving up to kidnapping, you should be more polite.
Dwayne T. Robinson: They're gonna need some more FBI guys, I guess.
John McClane: Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.
(while crawling through a narrow ventilation shaft) John McClane: Now I know what a TV dinner feels like.
(Powell with an armload of Twinkies) Convenience Store Clerk: I thought you guys just ate doughnuts. Sergeant Al Powell: Heh. They're for my wife. Convenience Store Clerk: (sarcastically) Yeah. Sergeant Al Powell: She's pregnant. Convenience Store Clerk: Yeah. Sergeant Al Powell: Bag it. Convenience Store Clerk: Big time.
Holly Gennero McClane: I have a request. Hans Gruber: What idiot put you in charge? Holly Gennero McClane: You did. When you murdered my boss. Now everyone's looking to me. Personally, I'd pass on the job. I don't enjoy being this close to you.
(as the SWAT Team closes in) Theo: (over the CB) All right, listen up guys. 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for the four assholes coming in the rear in standard two-by-two cover formation.
Hans Gruber: You *can* unlock the vault, can't you? Theo: You didn't bring me along for my charming personality.
John McClane: Welcome to the party pal.
Hans Gruber: Nice suit. John Phillips, London. I have two myself. Rumor has it Arafat buys his there.
Dwayne T. Robinson: God, I hope that's not a hostage.
(after Hans and Karl get the detonators back, Karl smashes a table of glasses) Ginny: Woah. That guy looks *really* pissed. Holly Gennero McClane: He's still alive. Ginny: What? Holly Gennero McClane: Only John can drive somebody that crazy.
(flying in the chopper to the roof) Big Johnson: Just like fuckin' Saigon ain't it, Slick? Little Johnson: I was in junior high, dickhead.
FBI Agent Johnson: (on the phone) Hello this is agent Johnson. (sighs) FBI Agent Johnson: No, the other one.
Hans Gruber: I am going to count to three, there will not be a four. Give me the code.
(after McClane sets off massive explosion) John McClane: Is the building on fire? Sergeant Al Powell: No, but it's gonna need a paint job and a shit load of screen doors.
John McClane: Merry Christmas, Argyle. Argyle: Merry Christmas. (Argyle shuts the limo door) Argyle: Man, if this is their idea of Christmas, I *gotta* be here for New Year's.
(after witnessing Mr Takagi's murder) John McClane: (talking to himself) Why the fuck didn't you stop them, John? Because then you'd be dead, too, asshole.
John McClane: So this is what it's about, Hans? A fucking robbery? Hans Gruber: Well, when you steal $600, you can just disappear. But when you steal $600 million, they will find you, unless they think you're already dead.
John McClane: You would have made a pretty good cowboy yourself, Hans. Hans Gruber: What was it you said to me earlier? "Yippie-kay-ya, motherfucker."
(John is fighting Karl) John McClane: Just like I heard your brother squeal. When I broke his fucking neck.
(Trying to get the German Terrorist's attention) Harry Ellis: Hey, sprechen ze talk?
Takagi: You'll just have to kill me. Hans Gruber: Okay.
Dwayne T. Robinson: I got a hundred people down here and they're all covered in glass. John McClane: Glass? Who gives a shit about glass? Who the fuck is this? Dwayne T. Robinson: This is Deputy Chief Dwayne T. Robinson, and I am in charge here. John McClane: Oh you're in charge? Well I got news for you *Dwayne*, from up here it doesn't look like you're in charge of jack shit. Dwayne T. Robinson: You listen to me you little asshole. John McClane: Asshole? I'm not the one who just got butt-fucked on national TV, *Dwayne*.
Argyle: So, why didn't you come with her man? What's up? John McClane: 'Cause I'm a New York cop. I got a six-month backlog on New York scumbags I'm still trying to put behind bars. I can't just pick up and go that easy.
(McClane, before jumping from the roof) John McClane: I promise I will never even THINK about going up in a tall building again. Oh, god. Please don't let me die.
Hans Gruber: You an American? John McClane: Only if New Jersey counts.
(Hans pulls a gun on McClane after impersonating a hostage) Hans: Put down the gun, and give me my detonators. John McClane: Well, well, well... Hans. Hans: Put it down now. John McClane: That was pretty tricky with that accent. You oughta be on fucking TV with that accent. But what do you want with the detonators, Hans? I already used all the explosives. Or did I? Hans: I'm going to count to three... John McClane: Yeah, like you did with Takagi? (Hans pulls trigger, but there are no bullets) John McClane: Ooops, no bullets. What do you think, I'm fucking stupid, Hans? (elevator opens) Hans: You were saying?
Hans: Mr Takagi, I could talk about men's fashion and industrialization all day but I'm afraid work must intrude, and my associate Theo has some questions for you, sort of fill in the blanks questions...
Marco: (cocks his gun) Next time you have a chance to kill someone, don't hesitate! John McClane: (shoots through the table, killing Marco) Thanks for the advice.
Sergeant Al Powell: The man is hurting! He's alone, he's tired, he hasn't seen half of what we've seen down here... and you're going to stand there and tell me that he's going to give a damn about what you do to him, IF he makes it out of there alive? Why don't you wake up and smell what you shovel in?
Hans: Touching, Cowboy. Touching. Or should I call you Mr McClane? Mr Officer John McClane of the New York Police Department? John McClane: Sister Teresa called me Mr McClane in the Third Grade. My friends call me John... and you're neither shithead
(after cornering Tony) John McClane: Drop it, dickhead. It's the police. Tony: You're not going to hurt me. John McClane: Oh, yeah? Why not? Tony: Because you're a policeman. There are rules for policemen. John McClane: Yeah. That's what my captain keeps telling me.
John McClane: Genario Motherfucker
Hans: The following people are to be released from their captors : In Northern Ireland, the seven members of the New Provo Front. In Canada, the five imprisoned leaders of Liberte de Quebec... In Sri Lanka, the nine members of the Asian Dawn movement... Karl: Asian Dawn Movement? Hans: I read about them in Time magazine
Gail Wallens: Author of "Hostage Terrorist, Terrorist Hostage: A study in duality." Dr Hasseldorf, what can we expect in the next few hours? Dr Hasseldorf: Well, Gail, by this time the hostages will be going through the early stages of the Helsinki Syndrome. Harvey Johnson: As in Helsinki, Sweden. Dr Hasseldorf: Finland.
Sergeant Al Powell: I shot a kid.
John McClane: Happy trails, Hans.
Marco: (chasing McClane in conference room) Where are you going, pal? No more table!
Karl: (holding a gun to McClane's head, takes his radio) We're both professional. (smashes the radio.) This is "personal."