Ironside

Robert T. Ironside:
I... LIKE... burned toast.

Robert T. Ironside:
[Looking at a piece of potential evidence outside a door, behind which a hostage may be held] This is a peppermint candy wrapper; break the door down.

Mark Sanger:
This candy wrapper looks like a street car transfer.

Robert T. Ironside:
Looks like a candy wrapper to me; must be the generation gap.

Francesca Kirby:
[Commenting on the jazz music] Oh, Quincy Jones. He really turns me on.

Doris Keller:
Kooks. Is it a sick enough world for you?

Robert T. Ironside:
World's fine. People keep messing it up.

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
Chief, it'll take time.

Robert T. Ironside:
Query: Why are the young always worried about time? They got a corner on it. Now move!

Officer Eve Whitfield:
I can't shake the feeling there's something between her and Vic Durant.

Robert T. Ironside:
That's what we need; another complication. A love affair?

Officer Eve Whitfield:
I don't know. It's hard to pin down. Little things. A small glance. An attitude. The unsaid things.

Robert T. Ironside:
You sound like a Victorian novel! Or a bad case of woman's intuition.

Officer Eve Whitfield:
Well, don't knock it. It's come in handy before.

Robert T. Ironside:
At Swarthmore, maybe. Here we graduate to facts only.

Officer Eve Whitfield:
[Annoyed, stands up to leave] Well, I can butter my own coffee!

Robert T. Ironside:
[Chuckling] Don't go away mad!

Les Appleton:
Y'know, it's all over the street now that you're living with the fuzz.

Mark Sanger:
Look, man, it's a job! And that's all.

Les Appleton:
Don't get uptight about it, man. I'm not puttin' ya down. It's a job, okay. It's a lot better than what you were doing.

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
You know what he told me once? There's only one excuse for missing work. Death... your own!

Arthur Damien:
[Addressing Ironside] You know what you and I do? We pry into people's lives. We both get paid for it. But that's where the similarity ends, because you can decide what you want to know. When you don't want to think about it, just put it in a manila folder and close it, and there it stays, out of your mind until you're ready for it again. I have no choice in the things I learn. I can't put them in some manila folder out of my mind. They stay.

Jonathan Dix:
Question: Why are 'A' students like kleptomaniacs? Answer: Because the more they get, the more they want.

Officer Eve Whitfield:
[as she holds Sheriff Poole at bay with her revolver] No pearl handle, Mr. Poole.

Officer Eve Whitfield:
[after surviving a dangerous undercover job] The truth is, I was terrified. But I knew that if I had shown how really frightened I was...

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
You hear that Chief? Fearless and dauntless - I'd say she's our girl.

Officer Eve Whitfield:
What?

Robert T. Ironside:
Well, Eve, it seems there's this night club owner who's hiring topless waitresses without a license. Now, if you'd care to volunteer...

Officer Eve Whitfield:
What sign were you born under?

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
It said Wesley Memorial Hospital. Why?

Officer Eve Whitfield:
Not that kind of sign. Sign of the zodiac, astrological sign. [Ed doesn't answer] Here's my horoscope for today: "You will have a dramatic surprise." How about that?

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
Now it's my time to say, "Oh boy."

Officer Eve Whitfield:
All right. Listen to this: "Born leader, shrewd, decisive, commanding, warm, and generous, and yet an implacable foe of injustice." Whom does that describe?

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Robert T. Ironside, but not necessarily in that order.

Officer Eve Whitfield:
Right. But it happens to be the people born under your sign.

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
Mine?

Officer Eve Whitfield:
Right. Cancer - the crab.

Det.Sgt. Ed Brown:
Chief, is it true that you're ruthless?

Robert T. Ironside:
Only when I want something.

Robert T. Ironside:
I want to see if there was anybody else who might have wanted to kill Andy.

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
Every man he arrested, I'd say.

Robert T. Ironside:
You'd be wrong. Those crooks don't take it personally any more than prizefighters or ballplayers or any other pros. They beat each other's brains out and when the bell rings or the whistle blows, so much for that. It's only the amateurs who hold grudges.

Adrienne May:
Would you like a drink?

Robert T. Ironside:
Why thank you. Straight, please, on the rocks. One of the benefits of my unofficial status is that I can drink during business hours. Always did anyway if I felt like it. But now I have the virtuous feeling that I'm not breaking any rules.

Mark Sanger:
I drink during the day I'm shiftless. You belt one down with a beautiful doll and it's all in the line of duty.

Robert T. Ironside:
I couldn't phrase it any better myself.

Robert T. Ironside:
Sick minds are not in short supply.

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
[upset because Ironside might be dying] You know what he once told me? The only reason a cop should take a day off is for death. His own!

Robert Ironside:
[Inspecting a small envelope] Some miscellaneous nuts. [Looks at Ed] Some miscellaneous nuts?

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
I tagged that one myself.

Robert Ironside:
I don't believe it. You wrote "some miscellaneous nuts"?

Det. Sgt. Ed Brown:
Well, what's the matter with it?

Robert Ironside:
Why nothing at all. Except that in police work there is no such things as "some," numbers are important. And miscellaneous means a lot of different things, and these are all the same. And nuts is too general and happens to be incorrect. Otherwise, a splendid piece of labeling. One, two, three, four, five, six. Not some miscellaneous, just six. Now, six what? Not nuts, what? [Toss the object to Ed] Ed, what is that? [Ed inspects it and then tosses it to Eve] That's right, Miss Whitfield has had the benefit of an expensive classical education, perhaps...

Eve Whitfield:
It's an acorn.

Robert Ironside:
An acorn. Exactly. Six acorns. Now, what do we know about acorns? Come, come. Has no one ever told you that mighty oaks from little acorns grow? The acorn is the fruit of the oak, but do you see any oaks in among those sycamores. The nearest oak is a hundred yards from those sycamores. Now, query: how came those acorns among those sycamores?