Quotes - The Man With The Golden Gun
|
Nick Nack: I wonder where you can find your gun, Monsieur Scaramanga. Your little golden gun.
Bond: Moneypenny, Fairbanks.....
Moneypenny: Alaska?!
Bond: No, Bill Fairbanks 002.
Moneypenny: Oh poor Bill. I miss him.
Bond: The man with the golden gun didn't.
Moneypenny: Officially, that was never confirmed.
Bond: Where was 002 when it happened?
Moneypenny: Beirut, 69´, in a cabaret with a lady called Saida.
Bond: Beirut, hmmmm.... Moneypenny you are better than a computer.
Moneypenny: In all sorts of ways! But you never take advantage of them.
Belly dancer: Oh no! I've lost my charm!
Bond: Not from where I'm standing.
Bond: What you might call a Mexican screw-up, gentlemen!
J.W.: Get your cotton-picking schnoz out of my pants.
Anders: You can have me too, if you like.
I'm not unattractive.
Bond: At last you're starting to tell the truth. |
|
 |
Lazar: My relationship with a client, Mr. Bond, is strictly confidential, like a doctor or a priest.
Bond: Of course, yet you make guns for fingerless hoodlums, bullets for assassins.
Lazar: Mr. Bond, bullets do not kill, it is the finger that pulls the trigger.
Bond: Exactly....I'm now aiming precisely at your groin. So speak or forever hold your peace (piece).
Lazar: I have never seen Mr. Scaramanga.
Bond: On a cost per bullet basis he must be your best customer.
Lazar: That is true, but unfortunately he seems only to fire them occasionally.
Bond: When was the last shipment?
Lazar: Mr. Bond this is impossible, I can not....[Bond fires a shot that misses Mr. Lazars groin by an inch]
Bond: You're quite right....an inch too low!
Scaramanga: This way the highest bidder can build hundreds of stations and sell franchises for hundreds more. He will literally have the sun in his pocket.
Bond: A monopoly on solar power. The oil sheikhs will pay you just to keep solar energy off the market.
Scaramanga: The thought had occurred to me.
Bond: [Trying to find out what Scaramanga looks like] How will I recognize him?
Andrea Anders: He's tall, dark and thin.
Bond: So is my aunt!
Bond: [Handing in his order for a fake nipple] Q, I'll... need this.
Q: Really, 007!
Bond: Oh, I admit it's a little kinky.
Bond: He may even use
one of those little golden bullets on you. And that would
be a pity, because they're "very" expensive.
Goodnight: I'll keep the wine properly chilled.
Bond: And everything else warm, I trust?
Scaramanga: I like a girl in a bikini.
No concealed weapons.
Bond: A gun in a bag of peanuts. How original. What will they think of next? |
|
 |
J.W. Pepper: What the hell are you doin' now, boy? The bridge is that way! You're not thinking of...?
Bond: [Before performing the 360 degree jump] I sure am, boy!
J.W. Pepper: I ain't never done that before!
Bond: Neither have I, actually.
Bond: Good morning. How's the water?
Chew Me: Why don't you come in and find out?
Bond:Sounds very tempting, Miss, er...
Chew Me: Chew Mee.
Bond: Really? There's only one problem. I have no swimming trunks.
Chew Me: Neither have I.
MI6 Agent: [Onboard the Queen Elizabeth] down here's the only place in Hong Kong you can't be bugged.
Maybelle Pepper: Oh, look, JW. I just gotta have me one of those cute little elephants.
J.W. Pepper: Elephants! We're Democrats, Maybelle.
Bond: Sorry about that darling! It was Hip! There's still no sign of Hai Fat. Every inquiry gets a polite Oriental brush off.
The waiter approaches holding a bottle of wine by the name of "Phu-yuck":
Waiter: With the compliments.....
Bond: Phu-yuck??
Waiter: 74', sir!
Bond and Goodnight tastes the wine:
Bond: I approve!
Goodnight: You do??
Bond: Oh... not the wine. Your frock. Tight in all the right places....not too many buttons...!
Goodnight: Standard uniform for South East Asia. The buttons are down the back!
Bond: Designed by Q no doubt. One of them is a suicide-pill I suppose??
Goodnight: No, but the bottom one has a homer in it!
Bond: How original!
Scaramanga: Ours is the loneliest profession,
so let us spend a few pleasant hours together.
Bond: How can I refuse such a gracious invitation?
Scaramanga: Nick Nack, I expect you to surpass yourself. He's
a cordon bleu, you know? |
|
|
Bond: Now, if Hip doesn't come up with a lead, there's really nothing very much for us to do tonight... Or is there?
Goodnight: Oh, darling, I'm tempted. But killing a few hours as one of your passing fancies isn't quite my scene.
Hai Fat: Why are you here?
Bond: [As 'Scaramanga'] Bond. James Bond.
Hai Fat: Do I know the gentleman?
Bond: Well, he knows you.
Hai Fat: Without being immodest, there are few people in this part of the world who don't.
Bond: And there are very few people who haven't heard of Bond. British Secret Service, 007, licensed to kill. He's good, even by my standards.
Bond: I admit killing you would be a pleasure.
Scaramanga: You should have done that before. But then the English
don't think it's sporting to kill in cold blood.
Bond: Don't count on that.
M: So, if I heard correctly, Scaramanga got away.
Bond: Yes, sir.
M: In a car that sprouted wings.
Q: That's perfectly feasible, sir. In fact, we're working on one now.
M: Oh, Q! Shut up.
Nick Nack: I have fooled you.
Bond: Good evening. My name is Bond. James Bond. Your dancing is superb... I don't usually intrude like this, but I... I believe we had a mutual friend. Bill Fairbanks.
Saida: Fairbanks?
Bond: I am told you were with him when he was rather, er... rudely interrupted. Ah, "mais oui" - Bill! What a terrible night. I will never forget it.
Bond: Did you see who shot him?
Saida: No, I was in his arms. My eyes were closed.
Bond: At least he died happy.
Bond: [In panic] Are you still there? It'll be on the auxiliary feedback circuit.
Goodnight: "Computer interlock... " Is that it?
Bond: Just push every damn button, will you?
J.W. Pepper: Now, if you pointy-heads would get out of them pajamas, you wouldn't be late for work!
J.W.: Now, I know you. You're that secret
agent, that English secret agent, from England!
|
|
|
Scaramanga: A duel between titans. My golden gun against your Walther PPK. Each of us with a 50-50 chance.
Bond: Six bullets to your one?
Scaramanga: I only need one.
Bond: Sounds a bit old-fashioned, doesn't it? I mean, pistols at dawn, that sort of thing.
Scaramanga: Indeed it is, Mr Bond. But it still remains the only "true" test
for gentlemen.
Bond: I doubt if you qualify on that score.
J.W.: Ahhhaa!, I knew it! You little brown pointy-heads
ain't got no more idea of traffic control, than a Gooney bird.
Fat's servant: What happened?
Scaramanga: Mr. Fat has just resigned. I'm the new chairman of the board.
Scaramanga walks outside and spots the mausoleum:
Scaramanga: He always did like that mausoleum. Put him in it!
Bond: A gun in a bag of peanuts, how original. What will they think of next?!
Goodnight: Somebody locked me in a boot!?
Bond: [Of Scaramanga] Anything distinctive about him?
Anders: Yes, but how can I... He is not like other people. He has three...
Bond: Oh. Fascinating anatomical titbit, but the most useless piece of information I ever heard. Unless the Bottoms Up is a strip club and Scaramanga is performing there.
Saida: I've lost my charm!
Bond: Not from where I'm standing.
J.W. Pepper: I've been deputised. Right?
Bond: Right.
Bond: [Of Hai Fait] He must have found me quite titillating.
Scaramanga: You must admit Mr. Bond, I'm now undeniably "the man with the golden gun"!
Scaramanga: You see Mr. Bond, like every great artist I want to create an indisputable masterpiece once in my lifetime. The death of 007 mano en mano, face to face, will be mine.
Bond: You mean stuffed and displayed over your rocky mantelpiece?
Scaramanga: That's an amusing idea but I was thinking in terms of history.
Bond: There is a useful four letter word, and you're full of it!
Scaramanga: You see, Mr Bond, I always thought I liked animals. Then I discovered that I liked killing people even more. |
|
|
J.W. You're chasin' somebody. Who are you after
this time, boy? Commies? Let's go get 'em! I'm with you all the
way.
Nick Nack: Good shooting, monsieur!
Bond: I've never killed a midget before, but there can always be a first time!
Nick Nack: Oh, monsieur!
Bond: Taxi! Follow that Rolls. [To the lady in front] Madam, would you be good enough to move this inverted bedpan?
Goodnight: Sorry I'm late, James, but your signal from Macau just reached the office.
Bond: You're a great help, Goodnight. Now, get on to Licence Bureau and trace that car. AU 603, a green Rolls.
Goodnight: A green Rolls?
Bond: A green Rolls-Royce. There can't be that many in Hong Kong.
Goodnight: Courtesy cars. All green Rolls-Royces belong to the Peninsula Hotel.
Bond: You see what a two-year posting to Staff Intelligence does for a girl?
Bond: [To Anders] Do you always take a shower with a pistol?
Hai Fat: [Preventing Nick Nack killing 007] Not here. This is my home. Take Mr Bond to school.
Bond: [Examining the cigarette package holding the golden bullets] I see why these packets carry a government warning.
Bond: [Preparing to take on the Karate black belts] Stand back, girls.
Hip: [Whilst the girls defend the pair of men] Forgot to tell you! Their father runs a karate school.
Bond: Miss Anders! I didn't recognise you with your clothes on.
Anders: I need 007. Who do you think sent that bullet to London with your number on it? I did. And it wasn't easy getting his fingerprint on the note.
Scaramanga: A difficult shot, but most gratifying.
Bond: Well, we, er... all get our jollies one way or another.
Scaramanga: Mine have always been guns, Mr Bond. When I was a boy I was brought up in a circus. |
|
|
Nick Nack: "Messieurs", I will remind you, this is "un duel á la mort". Only one of you can leave the field of honour. If a "coup de grâce" is necessary, as your referee, I will administer it myself. I do not expect wounds, only a clean kill.
Bond: [Of Anders] I'll buy you dinner, but first I have official
business to attend to.
Goodnight: Yes, I saw the "official business".
[Bond has just "caged" Nick Nack and he returns to the bedroom with Miss Goodnight. They lay down on the bed, kissing. Bond stops as he sees a phone rise, just next to the bed]
Goodnight: What's the matter?
Bond: Something came up!
Bond picks up the receiver:
Bond: Hello?
M: Ah, there you are Bond...Well done. Congratulations!
Bond: Thank you, Sir.
M: Is Miss Goodnight with you? I would like a word with her...
Bond: Hold on, Sir.
Bond starts kissing Goodnight, not letting her pick up the phone. She doesn't seem to mind:
M: Bond...Bond, are you there? ... Goodnight...?
Bond: She's just coming, Sir!
M: ...Goodnight...? Goodnight...? ...GOODNIGHT!
Bond: Good night, Sir!
