M: We do function in your absence, Commander.
James Bond: Pity about your liver sir. An unusually fine Solera. '51 I believe.
M: There is no year for sherry 007.
James Bond: I was referring to the original vintage on which the sherry is based sir. 1851. Unmistakable.

James Bond: Surely, sir, there's no need to involve our section on a relatively simple smuggling matter.
M: Sir Donald has convinced the PM otherwise. May I remind you 007, that Blofeld is dead. Finished! The least we can expect from you now is a little plain, solid, work.

Mr Wint: The scorpion!
Mr Kidd: One of natures finest killers, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: One is never too old to learn from a master, Mr Kidd.

Blofeld: I expected at least one head of state... Your pitiful little island hasn't even been threatened!

Blofeld: As you see, Mr Bond, the satellite is, at present, over Kansas. But if we destroy Kansas, the world may not hear about it for years.

James Bond: Presumably I'm the condemned man and obviously you're the hearty breakfast.

Mr Kidd: If God had wanted man to fly...
Mr Wint: ...he would have given him wings, Mr Kidd.

Marie: Is there something I can do for you?
[Ripping off Marie's bikini and using it to throttle her]
James Bond: As a matter of fact, there is... there's something I'd like you to get off your chest.

Blofeld: Tiffany, my dear. We're showing a bit more cheek than usual, aren't we?

Moneypenny: Mr Franks, your passport is quite in order.
James Bond: Oh, anyone seeing you in that outfit, Moneypenny, would most certainly be discouraged from leaving the country. What can I bring you back from Holland?
Moneypenny: A diamond - in a ring?
James Bond: Would you settle for a tulip?

James Bond: Weren't you a blonde when I came in?
Tiffany Case: Could be.
James Bond: I tend to notice little things like that, whether a girl is a blonde or a brunette.
Tiffany Case: And which do you prefer?
James Bond: Oh, providing the collars and cuffs match...

James Bond: That's quite a nice little nothing you're almost wearing. I approve.
Tiffany Case: I don't dress for the hired help. Let's see your passport, Franks.

Felix Leiter: I give up. I know the diamonds are in the body but where?
James Bond: Alimentary, Dr Leiter.

Mr. Wint: And for dessert, the pièce de résistance... a Bombe Surprise.

Driver: The stiff... er... the deceased back there... your brother, Mr Franks?
James Bond: Yes, it was.
Passenger: I got a brother.
James Bond: Small world!

James Bond: I'll take the full odds on the 10, 200 on the hard way, the limit on all the numbers and 250 on the 11, thank you very much.
Plenty: Say, you've played this game before...
James Bond: Just once.

Tiffany Case: Listen, you can drop me off at the next corner. This whole thing is getting a little out of hand. No regrets, but when you start stealing moon machines from Willard Whyte, good bye and good luck!
James Bond: Just relax, I have a friend named Felix who can fix anything.

Plenty: You handle those cubes like a monkey handles coconuts.

Tiffany Case: Occupation? Transport Consultant? It's a little cute isn't it? I'll finish dressing.
James Bond: Oh, please don't, not on my account.

James Bond: I'm afraid that you've caught me with more than my hands up!

James Bond: Exceptionally fine shot.
Thug: I didn't know there was a pool down there.

Tiffany Case: What happened? Where are the diamonds?
James Bond: Get in the car. If you see a mad Professor in a minibus, just smile!

Sir Donald: You have been on holiday, I understand. Relaxing, I hope?
James Bond: Oh, hardly relaxing, but most satisfying.

James Bond: One of us smells like a tart's handkerchief. I'm afraid it's me, sorry about that old boy.

Tiffany Case: What's going to happen to me? You did talk to your friend Felix about me...
James Bond: Mmmm...
Tiffany Case: Well, what did he say?
James Bond: Something about 20 years to life. Nothing important.
Tiffany Case: 20 years to life?
James Bond: Relax darling, I'm on top of the situation.

James Bond: [retiring to the hotel room] Well, if you'd like to come in, Plenty.
Plenty O'Toole: Oh, how pretty, what a super place you have!

James Bond: Thank you. I was just out walking and my rat and I seem to have lost my way.

Tiffany Case: She's...
James Bond: Dead. Supposed to be you. The next link in the "pipeline".
Tiffany Case: What are you talking about?
James Bond: Poor Plenty must have stumbled in here looking for you.

Mr Wint: A happy selection if I may say....
James Bond: I'll be the judge of that. That's rather potent. Not the cork, your aftershave. Strong enough to bury anything. But the wine is quite excellent. Although, for such a grand meal I had rather expected a claret.
Mr Wint: Of course. Unfortunately, our cellars are rather poorly stocked with clarets.
James Bond: Mouton Rothschild is a claret. And I've smelled that aftershave before and both times I've smelled a rat.

Plenty O'Toole: Hey, what the hell is this? A pervert's convention or something? Now listen, you can't do this to me! Stop that! I've got friends in this town!

James Bond: He certainly left with his tail between his legs...