Carmine Lorenzo:
You are in my little pond now, and I am the big fish that runs it.


John McClane:
[during the fight with Col.Stuart] Motherfuckin' motherfucker!


Trudeau:
Alright, we've got a body in the morgue that seems to have died twice. Assuming it's not a computer error, what do we assume?
John McClane:
That somebody's about to seriously fuck with this airport.
Trudeau:
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I mean, I know we're dummies up here, McClane, so give us a little taste of your brilliant genius! I mean, you talking about a hijacking, a robbery or what?
John McClane:
Look, I'm not sure. All I know, is...
Carmine Lorenzo:
Oh, he's not sure! Well, I'm stunned! I gotta lie down!
John McClane:
The only people that go to this much trouble are professionals, not luggage thieves and not punks!
Chief Engineer Leslie Barnes:
Professional at what?
John McClane:
[holding up the fax] What the fuck do you this is, huh? The safety patrol, here? This is the resume of a professional mercenary! You got the world's biggest drug dealer on his way here, now. What, do you need, a slide rule to figure this out? Or maybe another body in a zipper bag before you start asking questions?
Carmine Lorenzo:
Hey, pal, you're the one that gave us that fuckin' body, remember that.
John McClane:
Yeah, I remember that.


John McClane:
That punk pulled a Glock 7 on me. You know what that is? It's a porcelain gun made in Germany. Dosen't show up on your airport X-ray machines, here, and it cost more than you make in a month.
Carmine Lorenzo:
You'd be a surprised what I make in a month.
John McClane:
If it's more than a dollar ninety-eight I'd be very surprised.


Al Powell:
What's this about?
John McClane:
Oh, just a feeling I have.
Al Powell:
Ouch. When you get those feelings, insurance companies start to go bankrupt.


John McClane:
Hey, Carmine, let me ask you something. What sets off the metal detectors first? The lead in your ass or the shit in your brains?
[under his breath]
John McClane:
Fat fuck.


[McClane is forced to crawl through yet another ventilation system]
John McClane:
Just once, I'd like a regular, normal Christmas. Eggnog, a fuckin' Christmas tree, a little turkey. But, no. I gotta crawl around in this motherfuckin' tin can.


[McClane is showing his nervousness while riding in a helicopter]
Chopper Pilot:
What's the matter, cowboy? Ride too rough?
John McClane:
I don't like to fly.
Samantha Coleman:
Then what are you doing here?
John McClane:
I don't like to lose either.


Al Powell:
You're not pissing in somebody's pool, are you?
John McClane:
Yeah, and I'm fresh outta chlorine.


John McClane:
Oh man, I can't fucking believe this. Another basement, another elevator. How can the same shit happen to the same guy twice?


Grant:
You're the wrong guy in the wrong place at the wrong time.
John McClane:
Story of my life.


John McClane:
Guess I was wrong about you. You're not such an asshole after all.
Grant:
Oh, you were right. I'm just your kind of asshole.