Goldfinger

James Bond:
Shocking! Positively shocking!

P*ssy Galore:
You like a close shave, don't you?

James Bond:
I must have appealed to her maternal instincts.

P*ssy Galore:
What happened? Where's Goldfinger?

James Bond:
Playing his golden harp.

Q:
Now this one I'm particularly keen about. You see the gear lever here? Now, if you take the top off, you will find a little red button. Whatever you do, don't touch it.

James Bond:
Yeah, why not?

Q:
Because you'll release this section of the roof, and engage and then fire the passenger ejector seat. Whish!

James Bond:
Ejector seat? You're joking!

Q:
I never joke about my work, 007.

James Bond:
I have a slight inferiority complex.

James Bond:
My dear girl, there are some things that just aren't done, such as drinking Dom Perignon '53 above the temperature of 38 degrees Fahrenheit. That's just as bad as listening to the Beatles without earmuffs!

P*ssy Galore:
My name is P*ssy Galore.

James Bond:
I must be dreaming.

Hawker:
If that's his original ball, I'm Arnold Palmer.

James Bond:
'Tisn't.

Hawker:
How do you know?

James Bond:
I'm standing on it.

James Bond:
You're a woman of many parts, P*ssy!

Auric Goldfinger:
Man has climbed Mount Everest, gone to the bottom of the ocean. He's fired rockets at the Moon, split the atom, achieved miracles in every field of human endeavor... except crime!

James Bond:
Do you expect me to talk?

Auric Goldfinger:
No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die.

James Bond:
I think you made your point. Thank you for the demonstration.

Auric Goldfinger:
Choose your next witticism carefully Mr. Bond, it may be your last.

James Bond:
Special plane, lunch at the White House... how come?

Felix Leiter:
The President wants to thank you personally.

James Bond:
Oh, it was nothing, really.

Felix Leiter:
I know that, but he doesn't.

James Bond:
I suppose I'll be able to get a drink there.

Felix Leiter:
I told the stewardess liquor for three.

James Bond:
Who are the other two?

Felix Leiter:
Oh, there are no other two.

Auric Goldfinger:
If you'll excuse me, Mr. Bond, I have to tend to separating my gold from the late Mr. Solo.

James Bond:
As you said, a pressing engagement.

James Bond:
She's dead. Covered in paint. Gold paint.

Felix Leiter:
You okay, James? Where's your butler friend?

James Bond:
He blew a fuse.

Q:
It's not perfected yet.

Sierra:
Congratulations.

James Bond:
Thank you.

Sierra:
Mr. Ramirez and his friends will be out of business.

James Bond:
At least they won't be using heroin flavored bananas to finance revolutions.

James Bond:
Oh, no you don't.

James Bond:
This is no time to be rescued.

M:
Gold? All over?

Bond:
She died of skin suffocation. It's been known to happen to cabaret dancers. It's all right as long as you leave a small bare patch at the base of the spine to allow the skin to breathe.

M:
Someone obviously didn't.

Bond:
And I know who.

Bond:
What do you know about gold, Moneypenny?

Moneypenny:
Oh, the only gold I know about is the kind you wear. You know, [makes motion of inserting ring] on the third finger of your left hand.

Bond:
One day we really must look into that.

Moneypenny:
What about tonight? You come round for dinner and I'll cook you a beautiful Angel Cake.

Bond:
Nothing would give me great pleasure but unfortunately I have a ... business appointment.

Moneypenny:
That's the flimsiest excuse you've ever given me. Ah well some girls have all the luck. Who is she James?

M:
[Over the intercom] "She" is me, Miss Moneypenny. And kindly omit the customary byplay with 007, will you? He's dining with me, and I don't want him to be late.

Moneypenny:
[hopeful] So there's hope for me yet?

Bond:
Moneypenny...won't you ever believe me?

[Goldfinger shows off his industrial laser by having it slowly track toward Bond, lying supine and lashed to slab of gold.]

Goldfinger:
This is gold, Mr Bond. All my life, I have been in love with its color, its brilliance, its divine heaviness. I welcome any enterprise that will increase my stock- which is considerable.

Bond:
I think you've made your point, Goldfinger. Thank you for the demonstration.

Goldfinger:
Choose your next witticism carefully, Mr Bond — it may be your last. The purpose of our two previous encounters is now very clear to me. I do not intend to be disturbed by another. Goodnight, Mr Bond. [leaves Bond]

Bond:
Do you expect me to talk?

Goldfinger:
[looks back, laughing] No, Mr Bond, I expect you to die! There's nothing you can talk to me about that I don't already know!

Bond:
You're forgetting one thing. If I fail to report, 008 replaces me.

Goldfinger:
[sarcastically] I trust he will be more successful.

Bond:
But he knows what I know.

Goldfinger:
You know nothing, Mr. Bond.

Bond:
Operation Grand Slam, for instance.

[Goldfinger stops, and consults with Mr Ling as the laser beam gets closer to Bond.]

Goldfinger:
Two words you may have overheard, which cannot possibly have the slightest significance to you or anyone in your organization.

Bond:
Can you afford to take that chance?

[Goldfinger stops, considers what Bond just said, then orders to shut off the laser.]

Goldfinger:
You are quite right, Mr. Bond. You are worth more to me alive.

[After his laser encounter, Bond awakens to find a woman staring at him.]

Bond:
Who are you?

P*ssy Galore:
My name is P*ssy Galore.

Bond:
[looks away and smiles] I must be dreaming. [wakes up] I thought I'd wake up dead.

P*ssy Galore:
Tranquiliser gun, knockout shot.

Bond:
I see. Well, I'm delighted to be here. And...by the way, where is here?

P*ssy Galore:
35,000 feet flying southwest over Newfoundland.

Bond:
Oh. That explains the humming.

P*ssy Galore:
The humming means you're in Mr. Goldfinger's Lockheed JetStar heading for Baltimore, and you're his guest.

Bond:
I'm honoured. I never realized he enjoyed my company that much.

P*ssy Galore:
I don't suppose it will be all fun and games. [turns to Mei-Lei] Mei-Lei!

[Mei-Lei arrives]

Mei-Lei:
Can I do something for you, Mr. Bond?

Bond:
Uh...just a drink. A martini. Shaken, not stirred. [turns to P*ssy Galore]

[after ordering his signature martini]

Bond:
Why don't you join me?

P*ssy Galore:
Not on duty. I'm Mr. Goldfinger's personal pilot.

Bond:
You are? And, uh, just how personal is that?

P*ssy Galore:
I'm a damn good pilot. Period.

Bond:
Well that's good news. And by the way, where is our host?

P*ssy Galore:
He flew on ahead.

[Mei-Lei arrives with Bond's martini as Bond takes it]

Bond:
Thank you.

[Mei-Lei nods]

Bond:
I guess to Operation Grand Slam.

[Bond grabs his glass of martini]

Bond:
This should be a memorable flight.

P*ssy Galore:
You can turn off the charm. I'm immune.

[Bond drinks the martini]

[after burning Oddjob with his hat on metal bars and defusing a time bomb to stop at 0:
07]

Bond:
What kept you?

[Felix Leiter arrives to look on Bond]

Felix Leiter:
You OK, James? Where's your butler friend?

Bond:
Oh, he blew a fuse.

[onboard Goldfinger's airplane]

Goldfinger:
I'm glad to have you aboard, Mr. Bond.

Bond:
Well, congratulations on your...promotion, Goldfinger. Are you having lunch at the White House, too?

Goldfinger:
In two hours, I shall be in Cuba. And you have interfered with my plans for the last time, Mr. Bond!

Bond:
It's--uh--very dangerous to fire guns in planes. I even had to warn P*ssy about it. By the way, where is she?

Goldfinger:
I will deal with her later. At the moment, she's where she ought to be, at the controls.

[Bond wrestles for Goldfinger's gun and fights him until Bond shoots the plane's window, sucking Goldfinger out as the plane starts to crash]

P*ssy Galore:
What happened? Where's Goldfinger?

Bond:
Playing his golden harp.

Bond:
"Manners, Odd Job. I thought you always took your hat off to a lady."

Bond:
"You know, he kills little girls like you."

P*ssy:
"Little boys, too."

[Bond finds Goldfinger cheating at cards in Miami with the help of Jill Masterson]

Bond:
Tell me, Jill. Why does he do it?

Jill:
He likes to win.

Bond:
Why do you do it?

Jill:
He pays me.

Bond:
Is that all he pays you for?

Jill:
And for being seen with him.

Bond:
Just seen?

Jill:
Just seen!

Bond:
Oh, I'm so glad.

James Bond:
A martini. Shaken, not stirred.

Auric Goldfinger:
Mr Bond, they have a saying in Chicago: "Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time it's enemy action." [from the original Ian Fleming novel]

Colonel Smithers:
Have a little more of this rather disappointing brandy.

M:
What's wrong with it?

Bond:
I'd say it was a 30-year-old fine, indifferently blended, sir, with an overdose of bon-bois.

M:
Colonel Smithers is giving the lecture, 007.

Bond:
You'll kill 60,000 people uselessly.

Goldfinger:
Hah. American motorists kill that many every two years.

Bond:
Yes, well, I've worked out a few statistics of my own. 15 billion dollars in gold bullion weighs 10,500 tons. Sixty men would take twelve days to load it onto 200 trucks. Now, at the most, you're going to have two hours before the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines move in and make you put it back.

Goldfinger:
Who mentioned anything about removing it? [Bond goes silent] The julep tart enough for you?

Bond:
You plan to break into the world's largest bank, but not to steal anything. Why?

Goldfinger:
Go on, Mr. Bond.

Bond:
[thinking] Mr. Ling, the Red Chinese at the factory, he's a specialist in nuclear fission... but of course! His government's given you a bomb.

Goldfinger:
I prefer to call it an "atomic device." It's small, but particularly dirty.

Bond:
A dirty bomb? Cobalt and iodine?

Goldfinger:
Precisely.

Bond:
Well, if you explode it in Fort Knox, the... the entire gold supply of the United States would be radioactive for... fifty-seven years.

Goldfinger:
Fifty-eight, to be exact.

Bond:
I apologize, Goldfinger. It's an inspired deal! They get what they want: economic chaos in the West. And the value of your gold increases many times.

Goldfinger:
I conservatively estimate, ten times.

Bond:
Brilliant.

James Bond:
[After electrocuting an assassin] Shocking. Positively shocking.

James Bond:
"Auric Goldfinger." Sounds like a French nail varnish.