[last lines]
Teddy Daniels: You know, this place makes me wonder.
Chuck Aule: Yeah, what's that, boss?
Teddy Daniels: Which would be worse – to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?
[gets up and walks off]
Chuck Aule: Teddy?

[last lines]
Teddy Daniels: You know, this place makes me wonder.
Chuck Aule: Yeah, what's that, boss?
Teddy Daniels: Which would be worse – to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?
[gets up and walks off]
Chuck Aule: Teddy?
[Rudd fires at Riggs, hitting him several times. Riggs falls, writhing in pain. Arjen's gun clicks empty. Roger aims at him]
Roger Murtaugh: [shouting] DROP IT, ASSHOLE!
Martin Riggs: [weakly] Rog…
Arjen Rudd: [holds up his wallet] Diplomatic immunity.
[Roger slowly rolls his head on his neck, takes aim, and fires – his bullet goes through Rudd's wallet, and then his head]
Roger Murtaugh: It's *just been revoked*!
Hani: You know you can always tell who cares about you the most by who comes first to visit you in the hospital.
Greg: Orson Fortune. That is a sexy name. It is. You must fancy him a bit.
Alan Rittenhouse: I know you're just a reporter, but you used to be a person, right?
Danny Archer: Sometimes I wonder… will God ever forgive us for what we've done to each other? Then I look around and I realize… God left this place a long time ago.
David Levinson: They like to get the landmarks.
"Hoot": When I go home people'll ask me, "Hey Hoot, why do you do it man? What, you some kinda war junkie?" You know what I'll say? I won't say a goddamn word. Why? They won't understand. They won't understand why we do it. They won't understand that it's about the men next to you, and that's it. That's all it is.
Ox: Knock, knock!
Sergeant Moses Hightower: Who's there?
Ox: Buu!
Sergeant Moses Hightower: Buu, who?
Ox: Quit crying! This will be over in a moment!
[Hightower lets go of Ox]
Sergeant Moses Hightower: Fighting is one thing, but bad jokes is where I draw the line!
[Hightower hits Ox and knocks him out]
[at Gareth's funeral]
Matthew: Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in. In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him: 'Fat' seems to have been a word people most connected with him. 'Terribly rude' also rang a lot of bells. So very 'fat' and very 'rude' seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint. On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me and let me know that you loved him, which I know he would have been thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality, his strange experimental cooking: the recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness. But I hope joyful is how you will remember him, not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favourite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met. As for me, you may ask how I will remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately, there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say: "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'. Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."