[McClane's seatmate notices his nervousness.]
Businessman: Wanna know the secret to surviving air travel? After you get where you're going, take off your shoes and your socks, and you walk around on the rug barefoot and make fists with your toes.
John McClane: Fists with your toes?
Businessman: [chuckles] I know, I know, it sounds crazy. Trust me. I've been doing it for nine 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]
John McClane: 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.

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!

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.

Agent Johnson: Figure we take out the terrorists. Lose twenty, twenty-five percent of the hostages.
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: We're gonna need some more FBI guys I guess.

John McClane: Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!

[In a small air duct]
John McClane: Now I know what a TV dinner feels like.

[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 back way in standard two-by-two 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 that Arafat buys his there.

John McClane: Yippie cay-yay, motherfucker.

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 seems 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.

Agent Johnson: [on the phone] Hello this is agent Johnson.
[He sighs]
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.