Jack Burton: I took something. I can see things no one else can see. Why're you dressed like that?
Gracie: [on their way to confront Lo Pan] Do you have a gun, I hope?
Jack Burton: I have a knife.
Gracie: A knife? This guy's twelve feet tall!
Jack Burton: Seven. Hey, don't worry, I can handle him.
Egg Shen: You will come out no more!
Jack Burton: What? Huh? What'll come out no more?
Egg Shen: Come on.
Jack Burton: Dammit!
Jack Burton: What does that mean? Huh? "China is here." I don't even know what the hell that means.
Jack Burton: [tapping on the walls] Two, three feet thick, I'll bet. Probably welded shut from the outside, and covered with brick by now!
Wang Chi: Don't give up, Jack!
Jack Burton: Oh, okay, I won't, Wang! Let's just *chew* our way outta here.
Gracie: [Jack starts up the Pork Chop Express] What was that?
Jack Burton: 6.9 on the Richter scale!
Wang Chi: Nothin' or double, Jack.
Uncle Chu: What the hell is Gracie Law doing here?
Jack Burton: She can't get enough of me.
Gracie: Hah! He wishes.
Egg Shen: Lo Pan is down there.
Jack Burton: Down where?
Egg Shen: Where is the universe?
Margo: This is just so shocking. I mean I must just be so monumentally naive.
Eddie: You are.
Jack Burton: Is this gonna get ugly, now? Huh? I hope not. Because I thought what we were here, racial differences notwithstanding, was just a couple of old friends. You know, just both of us Californians.
Lo Pan: What does it mean? Two girls with green eyes. After all these years.
Gracie: You bastards, unchain me. You're not gonna get away with this. Where's Lo Pan?
Lo Pan: [speaks Chinese] This one has fire as well!
Eddie: Well sure it was a war. And anybody that showed up was gonna join Lem Lee in the Hell of Being Cut to Pieces.
Jack Burton: Hell of being what?
Eddie: Chinese have a lot of Hells.
Wang Chi: They got this sorta clubhouse thing, you know, where they all hang out.
Jack Burton: Sharpen their knives, huh?
Wang Chi: I can't ask you to...
Jack Burton: Where is it?
Wang Chi: Thank you, Jack.
Jack Burton: You got a tongue, Dave. Ask her yourself.
Jack Burton: We made it. Holy shit, we made it!
