Man with the Golden Gun

Sheriff J.W. Pepper:
Hey! You're that secret agent! That English secret agent! From England!

Francisco Scaramanga:
A duel between titans... my golden gun against your Walther PPK.

James Bond:
One bullet against my six?

Francisco Scaramanga:
I only need one, Mr. Bond.

James Bond:
How will I recognize him?

Andrea Anders:
Tall, slim, and dark.

James Bond:
So is my aunt. Anything distinctive?

Andrea Anders:
How can I put this? He's not like other men.

Andrea Anders:
He has three...

James Bond:
Probably the most useless anatomical tidbit I've ever heard. Unless the Bottoms Up is a strip club, and Scaramanga is performing.

James Bond:
Who'd want to put a contract on me?

M:
Jealous husbands! Outraged chefs! Humiliated tailors! The list is endless!

Francisco Scaramanga:
I like a girl in a bikini, no concealed weapons.

James Bond:
We all get our jollies one way or another.

Francisco Scaramanga:
Mine has always been guns, Mr. Bond.

James Bond:
I am now aiming precisely at your groin. So speak or forever hold your piece.

Francisco Scaramanga:
Ours is the loneliest profession, Mr. Bond.

James Bond:
Miss Anders... I didn't recognize you with your clothes on.

James Bond:
Did you see who shot Fairbanks?

Saida:
No, I was in his arms, my eyes were closed.

James Bond:
Well, at least he died happy.

James Bond:
PHUYUCK?

James Bond:
And that's really all there is to it...

M:
So if I understand it, Scaramanga got away - in a car that sprouted wings!

Q:
Oh, that's perfectly feasible, sir. In fact, Q branch are working on one right now.

M:
Oh, shut up, Q! Where is Miss Goodnight now?

James Bond:
Well, Communications aren't picking up the signal from the homing device supplied by Q.

Q:
Rubbish! They're simply not stepping up the reception sufficiently to enable.

M:
Oh, Q, shut up!

Colthorpe:
Lazar?

Q:
Lazar? Hmm, possible... Yes! I concur.

James Bond:
Well what the hell is Lazar?

Colthorpe:
Not "what", "who". Portuguese - lives in Macau.

Q:
Chap who made the bullet, 007!

James Bond:
He couldn't have missed me tonight. Instead, he hit some chap coming out of the club. I got quite a shock when I saw who it was.

M:
I should think you did.

James Bond:
Our missing solar-energy expert, Gibson.

M:
Yes, Gibson!

Andrea Anders:
Ow! You're twisting my arm!

James Bond:
I'll break it if you don't tell me what I want.

Francisco Scaramanga:
How do you like my island, Mr Bond?

James Bond:
A bit off the beaten track isn't it?

Francisco Scaramanga:
You get as much pleasure out of killing as I do, so why don't you admit it?

James Bond:
I admit killing you would be a pleasure.

Francisco Scaramanga:
You see, Mr Bond, like all great artists I want to create one indisputable masterpiece: the death of 007.

James Bond:
You mean stuffed and mounted over your rocky mantelpiece?

Francisco Scaramanga:
It's an amusing idea, but I was thinking more in terms of history.

James Bond:
Pistols at dawn; it's a little old-fashioned, isn't it?

Francisco Scaramanga:
That it is. But it remains the only true test for gentlemen.

James Bond:
On that score, I doubt you qualify. However, I accept.

Nick-nack:
I may be small but I never forget!

Francisco Scaramanga:
Nick Nack! Tabasco!

Francisco Scaramanga:
Nick Nack! Tabasco!

Nick-nack:
Right away, Monsieur Scaramanga.

Goodnight:
Oh, James. You didn't!

James Bond:
Yes I damn well did!

Francisco Scaramanga:
Now that's what I call solar power.

James Bond:
That's what I call trouble.

Lazar:
Mr. Bond, bullets do not kill. It is the finger that pulls the trigger.

Nick-nack:
This one was the best, n'est-ce pas?

Scaramanga:
Not bad, not bad at all. But you're going to have to do better if you want to come into my money.

Nick-nack:
I'll get you yet. And I'll enjoy everything you leave me.

Scaramanga:
You'll be the death of me yet, Nick Nack.

Francisco Scaramanga:
When I was a boy I was brought up in a circus. My only real friend was a huge, magnificent African bull elephant. One day, his handler mistreated him and he went berserk. Bleeding, dying, he came and found me, stood on one leg, his best trick, picked be up and put me on his back. The drunken handler came along and emptied his gun into his eye... I emptied my stage pistol into his!

James Bond:
An eye for an eye.

Francisco Scaramanga:
You see, Mr. Bond, I always thought I loved animals. Then I discovered that I enjoyed killing people even more.

Francisco Scaramanga:
Forget the girl, she's replaceable. Eventually, I shall find what she stole from me. Personally, I've got nothing against you, Mr. Bond, and to keep it that way, let us hope our paths never cross again. Please don't try to follow me.

James Bond:
Your peanut-toting friend back there wouldn't like it?

Francisco Scaramanga:
No, he wouldn't.