Red Eye
Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: [referring to the scar on her chest] It happened in the parking lot... the scar... two years ago.In the middle of the day... he held a knife to my throat the whole time. Ever since I've been trying to convince myself of one thing over and over...
Jackson Ripner: That it was beyond your control?
Lisa Reisert: No... that

it would never happen again.
[she stabs him in the neck with a pen]

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Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: Is it Jack for short?
Jackson Rippner: No. I haven't gone by Jack since I was ten years old.
Jackson Rippner: Last name's Rippner.
Lisa Reisert: Jack Rippner... Jack theee... oooohhhh.
Jackson Rippner: There you go.
Lisa Reisert: That wasn't very

nice of your parents.
Jackson Rippner: That's what I told them. Before I killed them.

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Red Eye

Bob Taylor: You want us to fill out a comment card?
Lisa Reisert: Yes, I do... and after you finish, you can go ahead and just shove it up your ass.

Red Eye
Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: [on the plane] So what is it you do?
Jackson Rippner: Government overthrows, flashy high-profile assassinations. The usual.
Lisa Reisert: O.K. Why don't you just tell me what you do?
Jackson Rippner: I already did.

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Red Eye

Jackson Rippner: [smirking darkly at Lisa] That was very clever, Leese. Taking some stress management courses? When we get out of this, I may have to steal you.

Red Eye
Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: [jokingly] You're a spy. I should've known.
Jackson Rippner: No, no. I'm not a spy.
Lisa Reisert: A hitman?
Jackson Rippner: I'm a lousy shot.
Lisa Reisert: Right. You work for the CIA?
Jackson Rippner: Well if I did I couldn't say could I... but

no.
Lisa Reisert: The mafia?
Jackson Rippner: The money's shit.

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Red Eye

[after the bomb incident at Lux Atlantic]
Marianne Taylor: Lisa! Do you have any idea what we've been through? First, there was no reservation.
[smiles forcedly at Cynthia]
Marianne Taylor: Then, our ceiling exploded. I got chunks of plaster all over me. I could get asthma.
Lisa Reisert: I'm so sorry, Mrs. Taylor. Is

there anything we can do to make it up to you?
Marianne Taylor: Yes. Start by cleaning house. Get rid of her. She is completely useless.
Bob Taylor: Absolutely. And cheeky, too.
Lisa Reisert: I see. Well...
[she looks over at Cynthia, then to the Taylors]
Lisa Reisert: Here's what you can do. You

can fill out a comment card at our front desk.
Marianne Taylor: A comment card?
[indignantly to Bob]
Marianne Taylor: She asked us to fill out a comment card.
Bob Taylor: You want us to fill out a comment card?
Lisa Reisert: Yes, I do. And after you've finished, you can go ahead and just shove it

up your ass.
[both Taylors are struck dumb by this sentence]
Cynthia: Yeah.
[as she walks away with Lisa, arm in arm]
Cynthia: You are so my hero.
Lisa Reisert: Let's open the bar.
Cynthia: Champagne?
Lisa Reisert: Oh, anything but a bay breeze.

Red Eye
Red Eye

Jackson Rippner: Lisa, whatever female-driven, emotion-based dilemma you may be dealing with right now, you have my sympathy. But for the sake of time and sanity, let's break this down into a little male-driven fact-based logic. One simple phone call saves your dad's life.

Red Eye
Red Eye

Rebecca: [to the flight attendant, after Jackson pushes Lisa back into the airline bathroom] A man went in there.
Young Flight Attendant: Everyone shares the same ones. Here, I'll take you to one closer to your seat.
Rebecca: But a lady's in there, too.
Young Flight Attendant: OK, one of *those* flights.

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Red Eye

[from trailer]
Jackson Rippner: Sometimes bad things happen to good people.

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Red Eye

Senior Flight Attendant: [after Jackson and Lisa come out of the bathroom] Excuse me! This is not a motel!
Jackson Rippner: [Jackson smiles] Sure.

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Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: Whatever you do, it's your own buisness, just as long as you're not...
Jackson Rippner: What?
Lisa Reisert: ...high-jacking the plane.
Jackson Rippner: Oh!
[laughs]
Jackson Rippner: No, I'm not suicidal.
Lisa Reisert: [relieved] That's good.


Jackson Rippner: And you're right, most days it is my buisness. But as faith would have it, my buisness is all about you.
Lisa Reisert: Okay, I'm not quite sure where you're going with this.
Jackson Rippner: Charles Keefe, VIP, one of your regulars. Ring a bell?
Lisa Reisert: No, should it?

Jackson Rippner: Yes, it should because right now he's on his way to your hotel and that's why you need to keep listening.
Lisa Reisert: No, I don't think I need to do that!
Jackson Rippner: Yes you do if you want your father to live.

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Red Eye

Jackson Rippner: You know what I think?
[slams her against the wall]
Jackson Rippner: I think you're not such an honest person. Because I've been following you for eight weeks now, and I never once saw you order anything but a fucking Sea Breeze!

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Red Eye

Jackson Rippner: I'll finish the job.
Lisa Reisert: Not in my house.

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Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: Where's your male-driven, fact-based logic now, Jack?

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Red Eye

Senior Flight Attendant: [to Rippner while collecting refuse from the passengers and erroneously assuming he has had sex in the lavatory] Trash.

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Red Eye

Jackson Rippner: So, what are the odds, huh?
Lisa Reisert: Yeah, I know.
Jackson Rippner: Wait a minute. You're not stalking me, are you?

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Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: Please, just stop whoever's outside my dad's house!
Jackson Rippner: I already have, by twice intercepting these little communiques! You know, if they'd have fallen into the hands of a by-the-book stewardess, she'd have gone straight to the cockpit and we'd have landed somewhere else! If that happens, Leese, our guy in the BMW's gonna know

about it, so do Dad a favor and stop gambling with his life!

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Red Eye

[last lines]
Lisa Reisert: Let's open the bar.
Cynthia: Champagne?
Lisa Reisert: Oh, anything but a bay breeze.
Cynthia: OK.

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Red Eye

Lisa Reisert: Cynthia.
[They hug]
Lisa Reisert: Are you okay?
Cynthia: Yeah, yeah...
Lisa Reisert: Yeah.
Cynthia: Yeah, I mean... I think we had a really good night, all things considered. Just - that one incident, really.