North by Northwest Quotes
Best North by Northwest Movie Quotes
North by Northwest
Directed by:Alfred Hitchcock
Written by: Ernest Lehman
Starring:Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, James Mason
Released on: December 18, 1959
Taglines: The Master of Suspense weaves his greatest tale!
North by Northwest Quotes
Seems to me you fellows could stand a little less training from the F.B.I. and a little more from the Actor's Studio.
Has anyone ever told you that you overplay your various roles rather severely, Mr. Kaplan?
That wasn't very sporting, using real bullets.
Roger Thornhill: Tell me, why are you so good to me?
Eve Kendall: Shall I climb up and tell you why?
Eve Kendall: You've got taste in clothes, taste in food.
Roger Thornhill: Hmm, And taste in women. I like your flavor.
Roger Thornhill: Come along, Mrs. Thornhill!
Eve Kendall: Roger, this is silly.
Roger Thornhill: I know, but I'm sentimental.
Roger Thornhill: When we get out of this, you can ride the train with me again.
Eve Kendall: Is that a proposition?
Roger Thornhill: It's a proposal, sweetie!
Roger Thornhill: it's something about my face.
Eve Kendall: It's a nice face.
Roger Thornhill: You think so?
Eve Kendall: I wouldn't say it if I didn't.
Roger Thornhill: Oh, you're that type.
Eve Kendall: What type?
Roger Thornhill: Honest.
Eve Kendall: I want you to do a favor for me. A big, big favor.
Roger Thornhill: Name it.
Eve Kendall: I want you to leave right now, stay far away from me, and don't come near me again. We're not going to get involved. Last night was last night, and it's all there was, and it's all there is. There isn't going to be anything more between us. So please. Goodbye, good luck, no conversation, just leave.
Eve Kendall: While I'm calling, you can change your clothes.
Roger Thornhill: Where do you propose I do that? In Marshall Fields' window?
Eve Kendall: I sort of had the men's room in mind.
Roger Thornhill: Did you, now? You're the smartest girl I ever spent the night with on a train.
Mickey: Good dags. D'ya like dags?
Mrs. O'Neil: Yeah, dags.
Tommy: Oh, dogs. Sure, I like dags. I like caravans more.
Gorgeous George: Get back down or you will not be coming up next time.
Gorgeous George: Oh, bollocks to you. This is sick. I'm out of here.
Mickey: You're not going anywhere, you thick lump.
Mickey: You stay until the job's done.
Turkish: It turned out that the sweet-talking, tattoo-sporting pikey was a gypsy bare-knuckle boxing champion. Which makes him harder than a coffin nail. Right now, that's the last thing on Tommy's mind. If Gorgeous doesn't wake up in the next few minutes, Tommy knows he'll be buried with him. Why would the gypsies go through the trouble of explaining why a man died in their campsite when they can bury the pair of them and just move camp? It's not like they got social security numbers, is it? Tommy - the tit - is praying. And if he isn't, he fucking should be.
Turkish: Well, do you want to do it?
Mickey: That depends.
Turkish: On what?
Mickey: On you buying this caravan. Not the rouge one, the rose.
Turkish: It's not the same caravan.
Mickey: It's not the same fight.
Turkish: It's twice the fucking size of the last one.
Mickey: Turkish, the fight is twice the size. And me ma still needs a caravan. I like to look after me ma. It's a fair deal. Take it.
Turkish: Mickey, you're lucky we aren't worm food after your last performance. Buying a tart's mobile palace is a little fucking rich.
Turkish: I wasn't calling your mum a tart. I just meant...
Mickey: Ah, save your breath for cooling your porridge. Now, look...
Mickey: She wants the Hector-2 roof lights, uh... the stylish ash-framed furniture and the scatter cushions with the matching shag pile covering.
Mickey: Right. And she's terrible partial to the periwinkle blue, boys. Have I made myself clear, boys?
Turkish: Yeah, that's perfectly clear, Mickey. Yeah... just give me one minute to confer with my colleague.
Turkish: Did you understand a single word of what he just said?
Turkish: I'm sorry, Mickey.
Mickey: Did ya do it? Then why are ya sorry?
I need to have a shite.
I bet ya can box a little, can't ya sir? Aye, you look like a boxer.
Mickey: Deadly kick for a fat fucker, ya know that?
Gorgeous George: Cheeky bastard!
Say, do I look heavyish to you?
In the world of advertising, there's no such thing as a lie. There's only expedient exaggeration.
No. No, Mother, I have not been drinking. No. No. These two men, they poured a whole bottle of bourbon into me. No, they didn't give me a chaser.
I don't like the way Teddy Roosevelt is looking at me.
I'm sorry old man. Too bad. Keep trying.
I didn't realize you were an art collector. I thought you just collected corpses.
We'll get them. We'll throw the book at them. Assault and kidnapping. Assault with a gun and a bourbon and a sports car. We'll get them.
I may go back to hating you. It was more fun.
Seven parking tickets.
Sorry love, I'm sentimental.
Who are you kidding? You have no feelings to hurt.
Now you listen to me, I'm an advertising man, not a red herring. I've got a job, a secretary, a mother, two ex-wives and several bartenders that depend upon me, and I don't intend to disappoint them all by getting myself "slightly" killed.
No, don't tell me where we're going, surprise me.
Handle with care, fellas. I'm valuable property.
I've grown accustomed to my bourbon.
I'm beginning to think I'm underpaid.
Roger Thornhill: The moment I meet an attractive woman, I have to start pretending I have no desire to make love to her.
Eve Kendall: What makes you think you have to conceal it?
Roger Thornhill: She might find the idea objectionable.
Eve Kendall: Then again, she might not.
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