Withnail: Old suit? This suit was cut by Hawke's of Saville row. Just because the best tailoring you've ever seen is above you f***ing appendix doesn't mean anything.
Danny: Don't get uptight with me man. Because if you do I'll have to give you a dose of medicine and if I spike you you'll know you've been spoken to.
Withnail: You wouldn't spike me you're too mean. Besides, there's nothing invented I couldn't take.
Danny: If I medicined you you'd think a brain tumour was a birthday present.
Withnail: I could take double anything you could.
Danny [Removing his sunglasses]: Very, very foolish words man.
Marwood: He's right Withnail. Look at him . His mechanisms gone. He's had more drugs than you've had hot dinners.
Withnail: I'm not having this shag-sack insulting me. Let him get his drugs out.
Danny gets a doll out of a bag.
Danny: This doll is extremely dangerous. It has voodoo qualities.
Withnail snorts. Danny takes the head off the doll and extracts a handful of pills.
Danny: Trade: Phenodihydrochloride benzelex. Street: The embalmer.
Withnail: Balls. I'll swallow it and run a mile.
Danny: Cool your boots man. This pill's valued at two quid.
Withnail: Two quid! You're out of your mind.
Marwood: That's sense Withnail.
Withnail: You can stuff it up your arse for nothing and f*** off while you're doing it.
Danny: No need to insult me man. I was leaving anyway. Have either of you got shoes?
Danny: No need to get uptight man. I was merely making an observation. I happened to be looking for a suit for the coal man two weeks ago. For reasons I can't really discuss with you the coal man had to go to Jamaica. Got busted coming back through Heathrow, had the weight under his fez. We worked out that it would be handycarma for him to get hold of a suit but he's a very low temperature spade the coal man, went into court wearing a kaftan and a bell. This doesn't go down at all well. They can handle the kaftan but they can't handle the bell. So there's this judge sitting there sitting in a cape like f***ing batman with this really rather far out looking hat.
Withnail: A wig.
Danny: No man, this was more like a long white hat. So he looks at the coalman and says 'what's all this. This is a court man. This ain't fancy dress' and the coal man looks at him and says 'you think you look normal, your honour?'. Cunt give him two years.
Mrs Nordberg: Oh, my poor Nordberg! He was such a good man, Frank. He never wanted to hurt anyone. Who would do such a thing?
Frank: lt's hard to tell. A gang of thugs, a blackmailer, an angry husband, a gay lover...
Ed: Frank, get a hold of yourself!
Ed: A good cop - needlessly cut down by some cowardly hoodlums.- No way for a man to die.
Frank: You're right, Ed. A parachute not opening - that's the way to die, getting caught in a combine, having your nuts bit off by a Laplander. That's the way l want to go.
Ed: Frank! This is terrible!
Ed: Don't worry, Wilma.
Your husband is gonna be all right. Just think positive. Never let a doubt enter your mind.
Frank: He's right, Wilma, but don't wait till the last minute to fill out those organ donor cards.
What l'm trying to say is,as soon as Nordberg is better, he's welcome back at Police Squad.
Frank: Unless he's a drooling vegetable,but that's only common sense
McMurphy: She was fifteen years old, going on thirty-five, Doc, and she told me she was eighteen, she was very willing, I practically had to take to sewing my pants shut. Between you and me, uh, she might have been fifteen, but when you get that little red beaver right up there in front of you, I don't think it's crazy at all and I don't think you do either. No man alive could resist that, and that's why I got into jail to begin with. And now they're telling me I'm crazy over here because I don't sit there like a goddamn vegetable. Don't make a bit of sense to me. If that's what being crazy is, then I'm senseless, out of it, gone-down-the-road, wacko. But no more, no less, that's it.
Sergeant Howie: Oh, what is all this? I mean, you've got fake biology, fake religion... Sir, have these children never heard of Jesus? Lord Summerisle: Himself the son of a virgin, impregnated, I believe, by a ghost... Sergeant Howie: And what of the TRUE God? Whose glory, churches and monasteries have been built on these islands for generations past? Now sir, what of him? Lord Summerisle: He's dead. Can't complain, had his chance and in modern parlance, blew it.
"I think in all fairness I should explain to you exactly what it is that I do. For instance, tomorrow morning I'll get up nice and early, take a walk down over to the bank and walk in and see you and, umm, if you don't have my money for me, I'll crack your fuckin' head wide open in front of everybody at the bank. And just about the time that I'm coming out of jail, hopefully you'll be coming out of your coma. And guess what? I'll split your fuckin' head open again 'cuz I'm fuckin' stupid, I don't give a f*** about jail. That's my business. That's what I do."