Bartlett: Virgil, isn't it?Hilts: Hilts. Just make it Hilts.
I'm going... out.
Hilts: Hold on to yourself, Bartlett. You're twenty feet short.Bartlett: What do you mean, twenty feet short?Hilts: You're twenty feet short of the woods. The hole is right here in open. The guard is between us and the lights.
One has to ask some very strange things in the job I have.Bartlett: In the three years, seven months and two weeks that I've been in the bag, that's the most extraordinary stuff I've ever tasted. It's shattering!MacDonald: Well, I think it's rather good... Well, with your permission, sir, I think I'll all on kives. Er, call on Ives.