*do* Quotes

The Joker: You know. I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us, Harvey. When you and, uh... Harvey Dent: Rachel! The Joker: Rachel were being abducted. I was sitting in Gordon's cage. Now, *I* didn't rig those charges. Harvey Dent: Your men. Your plan. The Joker: Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do

with one if I caught it! You know, I just... *do* things.

The Joker: You know. I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us, Harvey. When you and, uh... Harvey Dent: Rachel! The Joker: Rachel were being abducted. I was sitting in Gordon's cage. Now, *I* didn't rig those charges. Harvey Dent: Your men. Your plan. The Joker: Do I really look like a guy with a

plan? You know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it! You know, I just... *do* things.

Rachel Dawes: [Bruce and Rachel haven't seen each other for years. Bruce is wet from swimming in a "pool" in the restaurant] Bruce?
Bruce Wayne: Rachel?
Rachel Dawes: I heard you were back. What are you doing?
Bruce Wayne: Uh, just swimming. Wow, it is good to see you.
Rachel Dawes: You

were gone a long time.
Bruce Wayne: I know, how are things?
Rachel Dawes: The same. Job's getting worse.
Bruce Wayne: Can't change the world on your own.
Rachel Dawes: What choice do I have when you're too busy swimming?
Bruce Wayne: Rachel, all- all this, it- it's not me,

inside, I am, I am more.
European supermodel: Come on, Bruce.
European supermodel 2: We have some more hotels for you to buy.
Rachel Dawes: Bruce, deep down you may still be that great kid you used to be, but it's not who you are underneath, it's what you *do* that defines you.

Hans Gruber: Touching, Cowboy, touching. Or should I call you, Mr. McClane? Mr. Officer John McClane of the New York Police Department?
Richard Thornburg: Get on the phone to Harry in New York. Come on, baby, move, move.
Thornburg's Assistant: Got it.
Sergeant Al Powell: Better get a hold of somebody in

dispatch.
John McClane: Sister Teresa called me Mr. McClane in the third grade. My friends call me John, and you're neither, shit-head.
Hans Gruber: I have someone who wants to talk to you; a very special friend who was with you at the party tonight.
Harry Ellis: [Hans hands him the walkie talkie] Hey, John boy.

John McClane: Ellis?
Harry Ellis: Yeah. Now listen, John, they're giving me a few minutes to try to talk some sense into you. I know you think you're doing your job, John, and I can appreciate that, but, you're just dragging this thing out. Now look, no one gets outta here until these guys can talk to the *LA* police, and that just ain't gonna happen until

you stop messin' up the works, capisci?
John McClane: Ellis, what have you told them?
Harry Ellis: I told 'em we were old friends and you were my guest at the party.
John McClane: Ellis, you shouldn't be doin' this.
Harry Ellis: Tell me about it. Alright, John, listen. They want you to tell them where

the detonators are. They know people are listening. They want the detonators or they're gonna kill me.
[pause]
Harry Ellis: John, didn't you hear me?
John McClane: Yeah, I hear you.
Harry Ellis: Hey, John, I think you can get with the program a little, huh? The police are here now, it's their problem. Now tell these

guys where the detonators are so no one else gets hurt, you know I'm putting my life on the line for you, pal.
John McClane: Ellis, listen to me very carefully.
Harry Ellis: John?
John McClane: Shut up Ellis, just shut your mouth! Put Hans back on the line.
[Ellis holds the walkie talkie up]
John

McClane: Hans, this shit-head does not know what kind of man you are, but I do. Listen to me!
Hans Gruber: Good. Then, you'll give us what we want and save your friend's life. You're not part of this equation this time, you realize that.
[presents his gun]
Harry Ellis: Hey, what am I, a method actor? Hans, babe, put away the gun, this

is radio, not television.
John McClane: [nervously yelling] Hans, this asshole is not my friend, I just met him tonight, I don't know him. Jesus Christ, Ellis these people are gonna kill you, tell them, you don't know me.
Harry Ellis: John, how can you say that after all these years, huh? John?
[gets no response]
Harry

Ellis: John?
[still gets no response, then laughs slightly, then Hans shoots him in the head]
Hans Gruber: [he puts the walkie talkie up to the screaming crowd, then yells into the walkie talkie] You hear that? Talk to me, where are my detonators? Where are they, or shall I shoot another one? Sooner or later, I might get to someone you *do* care about!

John McClane: Go fuck yourself, Hans.

Juror #7: I don't know about the rest of 'em but I'm gettin' a little tired of this yakity-yack and back-and-forth, it's gettin' us nowhere. So I guess *I'll* have to break it up; I change my vote to "not guilty."
Juror #3: You *what?*
Juror #7: You heard me, I've... had enough.
Juror #3: Whaddaya mean, you've

had enough? That's no answer!
Juror #7: Hey, listen, you just uh... take care of yourself, 'uh? You know?
Juror #11: He's right. That's not an answer. What kind of a man are you? You have sat here and voted "guilty" with everyone else because there are some baseball tickets burning a hole in your pocket? And now you've changed your vote because you

say you're sick of all the talking here?
Juror #7: Now listen, buddy - !
Juror #11: Who tells you that you have the right like this to play with a man's life? Don't you care...
Juror #7: Now wait a minute! You can't talk like that to me - !
Juror #11: I *can* talk like that to you! If you want to vote

"not guilty", then do it because you are convinced the man is not guilty, not because you've "had enough". And if you think he is guilty, then vote that way! Or don't you have the guts to do what you think is right?
Juror #7: Now listen...
Juror #11: Guilty or not guilty?
Juror #7: I told ya! Not guilty!
Juror

#11: Why?
Juror #7: ...Look, I don't have tuh...
Juror #11: You *do* have to! *Say* it! *Why?*
Juror #7: Uhh... I don't, uh... think he's guilty!
[Juror #11 stares back with impatient resignation, and finally returns to his seat]

Hiccup: [to Toothless] We're leaving! Let's pack up. Looks like you and me are taking a little vacation. Forever.
[he bends over his pack]
Hiccup: Ah man.
[looking up, he sees Astrid sitting on a boulder, sharpening her axe]
Hiccup: Agh! What the... uh, uh, what are you doing here?
Astrid: I want

to know what's going on.
[she jumps down and menaces him with the axe]
Astrid: No one just *gets* as good as you do. *Especially* you. Start talking! Are you training with someone?
Hiccup: Uh, uh, training? I didn't...
Astrid: [grabbing his flight gear] It better not involve *this*...
Hiccup: I,

I know, this... looks really bad, but, you see, this is uh...
[there's a rustling behind them and she looks over his shoulder toward the noise]
Hiccup: [trying to distract her] Uh, you're right! You're right, you're right. I, I'm through with the lies, I've been making... outfits! So, you got me. It's time everyone knew. Drag me back, go ahead... here we go...

[she twists his arm, throwing him to the ground]
Hiccup: OW! Why would you *do* that?
Astrid: That's for the lies! And *that's*...
[she drops the butt of her axe on his chest]
Astrid: ... for everything else!
[Toothless emerges a few feet away]
Hiccup: Oh man...

Astrid: [gasps and throws them both to the ground] Get down!
[Toothless charges, she pushes Hiccup away and raises her axe]
Astrid: RUN! RUN!
Hiccup: [grabbing the axe and throwing it away] No! No! It's okay, it's okay!
[to Toothless]
Hiccup: She's a friend.
[to Astrid, holding Toothless

back]
Hiccup: You scared him.
Astrid: *I* scared *him*? Who is "him"?
Hiccup: Uh... Astrid, Toothless! Toothless, Astrid.
[Toothless snarls, Astrid shakes her head in bewilderment and runs off]
Hiccup: Duh-duh-duh, we're dead!

PC Danny Butterman: Sorry, I just- I just feel like I'm missing out sometimes. I wanna do what you do.
Nicholas Angel: You *do* do what I do! What on earth you think you're missing out?
PC Danny Butterman: Gun fights, car chases... proper action and shit!
Nicholas Angel: Police work is not about proper action.

Or shit.

Max Cherry: Beaumont Livingston.
Ordell Robbie: Livingston, huh?
Max Cherry: On his prior, he served nine months, he's working on four years probation.
Ordell Robbie: You don't say.
Max Cherry: You know what he's on probation for?
Ordell Robbie: Ain't got a clue.

Max Cherry: Possession of unregistered machine guns.
Ordell Robbie: Damn. Now, they gonna consider that a violation of his probation?
Max Cherry: They *do* consider this a violation of his probation. Your boy's looking at ten years, plus the concealed weapon.
Ordell Robbie: He ain't gonna like that.

Beaumont ain't got a doin' time kind of disposition.