Harry Callahan Quotes in Dirty Harry (1971)

Harry Callahan: Uh uh. I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well to tell you the truth in all this excitement I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?

The Mayor: Callahan... I don't want any more trouble like you had last year in the Fillmore district. You understand? That's my policy.

Harry Callahan: Yeah, well, when an adult male is chasing a female with intent to commit rape, I shoot the bastard - that's my policy.

The Mayor: Intent? How'd you establish that?

Harry Callahan: When a naked man is chasing a woman through a dark alley with a butcher knife and a hard on, I figure he isn't out collecting for the Red Cross.

[leaves]

The Mayor: I think he's got a point.

Chief: [introducing Harry to the mayor] Mr. Mayor, Inspector Callahan

The Mayor: All right. Let's have it.

Harry Callahan: Have what?

The Mayor: You report. What have you been doing?

Harry Callahan: Well, for the past three-quarters of an hour, I've been sitting on my ass waiting on you.

Doctor: Sure, Harry. We can save the leg.

[takes out some scissors]

Harry Callahan: What are you going to do with those?

Doctor: Going to cut your pants off.

Harry Callahan: No. I'll take them off.

Doctor: It'll hurt.

Harry Callahan: $29.50, let it hurt.

[after a battered crook has accused Harry of beating him]

Chief: Have you been following that man?

Harry Callahan: Yeah, I've been following him on my own time. And anybody can tell I didn't do that to him.

Chief: How?

Harry Callahan: Cause he looks too damn good, that's how!

Gonzales: There is one question, Inspector Callahan: Why do they call you "Dirty Harry"?

De Georgio: Ah that's one thing about our Harry, doesn't play any favorites! Harry hates everybody: Limeys, Micks, Hebes, Fat Dagos, Niggers, Honkies, Chinks, you name it.

Gonzales: How does he feel about Mexicans?

De Georgio: Ask him.

Harry Callahan: Especially Spics.

[Harry is getting a dressing-down for his most recent arrest]

District Attorney Rothko: You're lucky I'm not indicting you for assault with intent to commit murder.

Harry Callahan: What?

District Attorney Rothko: Where the hell does it say that you've got a right to kick down doors, torture suspects, deny medical attention and legal counsel? Where have you been? Does Escobedo ring a bell? Miranda? I mean, you must have heard of the Fourth Amendment. What I'm saying is that man had rights.

Harry Callahan: Well, I'm all broken up about that man's rights.

Harry Callahan: You know, you're crazy if you think you've heard the last of this guy. He's gonna kill again.

District Attorney Rothko: How do you know?

Harry Callahan: 'Cause he likes it.

De Georgio: You need any help, Harry?

Harry Callahan: Go on out and get some air, fatso!

[turns to killer]

The Killer: [pleading] Please! No more! I'm hurt! Can't you see I'm hurt? You shot me! Please, don't, don't! Let me have a doctor, let-let me have a doctor. Please, get me the doctor! Don't kill me!

Harry Callahan: The girl, where is she?

The Killer: [crying with reason] You tried to kill me!

Harry Callahan: If I tried that, your head would be splattered all over this field.

[demanding]

Harry Callahan: Now, where's the girl?

The Killer: [almost crying] I want a lawyer.

Harry Callahan: [angered] I said, where's the girl?

The Killer: [cries] I have the rights to a lawyer.

Harry Callahan: [raises his voice] Where's the girl?

The Killer: I have the rights to a lawyer!

[Harry looks at Scorpio's wound on his leg]

The Killer: Don't, please!

[Harry begins begins to slowly push his shoe on the wound]

The Killer: I have right to a lawYEEER!

[Scorpio begins to scream in pain as the camera zooms out]

Harry Callahan: Now you know why they call me Dirty Harry: every dirty job that comes along.

Harry Callahan: You from around here?

Gonzales: Yeah, but I went to school at San Jose State.

Harry Callahan: You play ball?

Gonzales: Uh, no, I boxed. Light heavyweight.

Harry Callahan: Just what I need, it's a college boy.

Gonzales: You haven't found one thing you like about me?

Harry Callahan: Well, it's early yet. Get your degree?

Gonzales: Sociology.

Harry Callahan: Sociology? Oh, you'll go far. That's if you live.

Mr. Jaffe: The usual lunch or the usual dinner?

Harry Callahan: Well, what difference does that make?

Mr. Jaffe: None.

Harry Callahan: Say Jaffe, is that Tan Ford still parked in front of the bank?

Mr. Jaffe: Tan ford...

[checks]

Mr. Jaffe: Yep. Tan Ford.

Harry Callahan: Engine running?

Mr. Jaffe: I don't know. How can I tell?

Harry Callahan: Exhaust fumes coming from the tailpipe.

Mr. Jaffe: Oh, my God. That is awful. Look at all that pollution.

Harry Callahan: [Harry turns to see] Yeah. Do me a favor.

[gives him slip of paper]

Harry Callahan: Call this number.

Mr. Jaffe: Police department?

Harry Callahan: Yeah. Tell them Inspector Callahan thinks there's a 211 in progress at the bank. Be sure and tell them that's IN progress.

Mr. Jaffe: 211. Yes sir.

[goes to phone and starts dialing up]

Harry Callahan: Now, if they'll just wait for the cavalry to arrive.

[Suddenly a gun shot goes off and an alarm bell follows immediately]

Harry Callahan: Ah, shit.

Harry Callahan: Get out of the way, Hammerhead.

Harry Callahan: There must be something you can get him on.

Judge Bannerman: Without the evidence of the gun and the girl, I couldn't convict him of spitting on the sidewalk.

Harry Callahan: Are you trying to tell me that ballistics can't match the bullet up to this rifle?

District Attorney Rothko: It does not matter what ballistics can do. This rifle might make a nice souvenir. But it's inadmissible as evidence.

Harry Callahan: And who says that?

District Attorney Rothko: It's the law.

Harry Callahan: Well, then the law is crazy.

De Georgio: Morning, Harry.

Harry Callahan: Morning, fatso. Bressler wants to see you.

De Georgio: You're a sweet man, Harry.

The Killer: [to Harry Callahan] No, don't pass out on me now cop! No, no, no, no, no. Don't pass out on me yet, you dirty, rotten oinker! Do we understand each other? You better answer me, if you want to know where the girl is. Okay? Now listen... I've changed my mind. I'm going to let her die! I just wanted you to know that. You hear me? I just wanted you to know that before I killed you!

[laughs crazily]

The Killer: Goodbye, Callahan!

[Chico fires at Scorpio to defend Harry, who's lying on the ground]

Harry Callahan: Chico! Don't... kill him!

Chief: Callahan? You willing to take the money to him?

Harry Callahan: When will you people stop messing around with this guy? He's gotta be stopped now!

The Mayor: He's got a busload of kids and I can't take that chance. I gave my word of honor on it and he will not be molested! That's a direct order, Callahan!

Harry Callahan: Well, you can just get yourself another delivery boy.

Suicide Jumper: [Harry is being lifted by a crane to try to talk down a suicide jumper standing on the edge of a building] Don't you try to get me!

Harry Callahan: [chuckles] Not me, no. You're the one who wants to get yourself killed. Not me. That always happens with you men, you know? At the last minute, you wanna grab on to something or take somebody with you, but down you go. Not me, brother.

Suicide Jumper: Aren't you gonna try to grab me?

Harry Callahan: A friend of mine was up about 20 floors with a jumper a few years ago. The jumper grabbed him, they went off, 20 floors down. Just mashed 'em all to bits. You couldn't tell which legs were which, you couldn't tell which arms were which, it was a terrible mess. And I'll tell ya, I almost threw up myself. I'd just like your name and address, that's all.

Suicide Jumper: Why?

Harry Callahan: Well like I said, it's such a mess down there afterwards. And it makes identification impossible, even if they do find your driver's license in all that blood and everything.

Suicide Jumper: I think... I think I'm gonna puke!

Harry Callahan: Aw, don't do that, son. I mean all those people down there looking up? The fire chief looking up, his face?

Suicide Jumper: YOU ROTTEN BASTARD!

[Jumps from the edge and grabs a hold of the crane, trying to bring Harry down with him]

Suicide Jumper: LET ME LOOSE!

[Harry punches him out cold, and delivers him safely to the ground]

Jaywalker: [when Harry nearly runs him over] Hey fruitcake, what are you doing?

Harry Callahan: Get the hell outta the way, hammerhead!

Harry Callahan: [speaking into his hidden microphone] Couple of kids necking.

Gonzales: Boys or girls?

Harry Callahan: Well, opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one.

Harry Callahan: [friendly] You forgot your fortune cookie!

Gunman #1: [confused, yells] What?

Harry Callahan: It says...

[pauses]

Harry Callahan: "You're shit outta luck!"

[Harry shoots him]

Capt. Donnelly: 13,453 dollars and 63 cents. That's how much an unmarked squad car costs this department. That's the third goddamned car you trashed this month.

Harry Callahan: Lou Janero.

Capt. Donnelly: What?

Harry Callahan: It's his men who shot up the car, why don't you send him the bill?

Harry Callahan: Do you have any kids, lieutenant?

Lt. Ackerman: Me? No.

Harry Callahan: Lucky for them.

Harry Callahan: [points out the biggest, nastiest-looking guy in the prison to Janero] See that gorilla down there? That's Butcher Hicks... and he's killed three men. You know how he did it? He tore 'em apart with his teeth! Didn't even find all the pieces... you might say he has an unhealthy appetite.

Lou Janero: [nervous, but trying not to show it] So what?

Harry Callahan: So Hicks there is my new pen pal. I'm going to be sending him a letter once a week, and I'm going to be telling him how I'm gonna be looking in on his sick mother, and how I'm trying to get him special privileges here at the prison. And you know what's the interesting part? The interesting part is if anything happens to me, and Hicks doesn't get his letter, he's going to be really pissed off, and he's going to come down here and see you because you're the mail man. In fact he'll probably come down here to this post office and cancel your ass like a stamp. So you'd better ensure prompt, courteous delivery, and pray that nothing happens to me.

Butcher Hicks: [Harry pays Hicks his box of smokes for just standing] That's it?

Harry Callahan: That's it. Oh, you see that dirtbag I was talking to down there?

[points to Janero]

Harry Callahan: He says that smoking can cause cancer, and anyone who smokes as much as you do is one dumb son-of-a-bitch!

[Hicks growls menacingly and stares daggers at Janero who shuts himself back in his cell]

Harlan Rook: Now you've locked yourself in, asshole!

Harry Callahan: Yeah. Just you and me, asshole.

Peter Swan: Do you mind, gentlemen? I happen to be at a funeral.

Harry Callahan: Like to talk to you about your list.

Peter Swan: It's no big secret. Most of the cast and crew knew about it. I didn't tell you because the dead pool is just a harmless game.

Harry Callahan: Sounds pretty sick to me.

Peter Swan: Let me tell you something, Callahan. People... people are fascinated with death and violence. That's why my films make money. They're an escape, a vicarious release of fear. Same thing with this game. Nobody takes my films *or* the dead pool seriously.

Harry Callahan: Well, someone gave Squares the drugs that killed him - maybe it was you.

Peter Swan: You can't tie me into Johnny's death just because of a coincidence. My assistant and my effects supervisor were playing the game too, why don't you talk to them?

Harry Callahan: Oh, we will - but nobody on their list is dead yet.

Peter Swan: Hey, look, Callahan, Johnny was a major drugs user, and I predicted he'd die this year, but that's all I did. Don't you get it? The whole idea is to pick celebrities who aren't going to make it, because they're old, or because they're sick or because they're in a high-risk profession.

Harry Callahan: Like police work?

Peter Swan: Nothing personal, love.

Harry Callahan: I don't like your list, Swan. I don't like being on it.

Peter Swan: Ah, that's, that's what this is really all about, isn't it? Well, if you got a charge to make...

Harry Callahan: Maybe I'll start my own dead pool, and put you on it.

Peter Swan: You threatening me?

Harry Callahan: You want to play the game, you'd better know the rules, love.

Harry Callahan: [after partner karated a crook] Well, personally I think teaming up with a Chinese American is good for the department's image.

Capt. Donnelly: [with sheet of paper] You know what this is, Callahan? It's a bill for a TV camera and lens. When I told you to stop wrecking our cars, I didn't mean go out and find something else to destroy!

Harry Callahan: They were interfering with an official investigation, Sir.

Lt. Ackerman: Don't give us that. Is this your idea of cooperation with the media?

Harry Callahan: Cooperation works two ways, Lieutenant.

Lt. Ackerman: Just what is it you have against reporters, Callahan?

Harry Callahan: Well some of them are just marvellous people. But others like to walk through a pile and track it through an investigation. I don't like that.

Lt. Ackerman: Well you'd better change your attitude fast, Callahan, because unless we come to some kind of an agreement with these people, it's just liable to cost this city two million dollars and your career!

[ushers in reporter]

Lt. Ackerman: Would you join us please? This is Miss Samantha Walker of Station KWSF. Captain Donnelly...

Capt. Donnelly: Miss Walker...

Samantha Walker: Captain...

Lt. Ackerman: And this is Inspector...

Samantha Walker: ...Callahan. Yes, we've met.

Lt. Ackerman: Oh yes, of course. Will you sit down?

Samantha Walker: Oh, thank you.

Capt. Donnelly: Miss Walker, ah, Lt. Ackerman here tells me you have a proposal to make, er, regarding the accidental damage to a television camera.

Samantha Walker: [sweetly] Oh, there was nothing accidental about it, Captain.

Capt. Donnelly: Well, I think the department might have something else to say about that.

Samantha Walker: Well, although the camera itself was destroyed, I have the entire incident on video.

Capt. Donnelly: I see.

[glares at Callahan]

Capt. Donnelly: And your proposal?

Samantha Walker: We may be willing to drop the lawsuit against the city... but that all depends on Inspector Callahan.

Lt. Ackerman: Well I'm sure the Inspector would be more than willing to cooperate in any...

Harry Callahan: Just what do you have in mind?

Samantha Walker: Dinner.

[the men all stare at one other]

Harry Callahan: Do you like cops?

Samantha Walker: As long as they're not in my rearview mirror.

Harry Callahan: You're out of bullets. And you know what that means... you're shit outta luck.

Harry Callahan: She's right. Oh you can set yourself into a bonfire, we'll break out the marshmallows and the weenies, but you ain't gonna be on "News at Eleven".

Insp. Al Quan: It's like I was telling you, Harry. Celebrities, they always die in...

Harry Callahan: ...in threes.

Insp. Al Quan: At least the guy went out with...

Harry Callahan: ...a bang. Yeah, I know.

Capt. Donnelly: Where's Rook?

Harry Callahan: He's hanging out back there.

Harry Callahan: Fuck with me, buddy, I'll kick your ass so hard you'll have to unbutton your collar to shit.

Samantha Walker: [after Harry signed personal autograph] Was this your first autograph?

Harry Callahan: Yeah, and I hope my last.

Harry Callahan: Oh you can set yourself into a bonfire and we'll break out the marshmallows and the weenies but you ain't gonna be on News at Eleven.

Suzanne Dayton: [hysterical with grief and restrained by uniformed officers] No! No!

[Samantha and her camera crew surround Suzanne, the camera is inches from her face]

Samantha Walker: [to her cameraman] I said keep shooting, right in there.

[Callahan, angry, wades into the melee]

Harry Callahan: Back off with that camera!

Samantha Walker: Hey! I can film whatever I want! Keep shooting!

Harry Callahan: I said knock the camera off...

[something unintelligible as he wrestles the camera away and hurls it as far as he can. It bounces down some steps and breaks apart]

Samantha Walker: Smart.

Harry Callahan: Ed Butler may be an alias for Rook.

[gets in Capt. Donnelly's car]

Capt. Donnelly: [standing beside car holding car's radio microphone] Harry, where are you going? Harry? Harry!

[the mike lead snaps as Callahan drives off]

Capt. Donnelly: That's my car!

Insp. Al Quan: You know, Harry, they always die in threes.

Harry Callahan: Hmm?

Insp. Al Quan: Haven't you ever noticed? When one celebrity dies, two more always go in a week or two. Well it's a fact, Harry. Celebrities always die in threes.

[last lines]

Harry Callahan: A man's GOT to know his limitations.

[first lines]

Harry Callahan: [at end of main titles] This is a 44. Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and it could blow your head clean off. Do you feel lucky?

[fires at the audience]

Lieutenant Briggs: Suppose they panic and start shooting?

Harry Callahan: Nothing wrong with shooting as long as the right people get shot!

Sunny: [as Harry walks by to his appartment] Hi!

Harry Callahan: Oh, hi... what's your name?

Sunny: Sunny. You know, I've been living here for almost six months now. It's funny I've never met you before.

Harry Callahan: Oh well... I work a lot.

Sunny: I know. You're the cop who lives upstairs.

Harry Callahan: That's right.

Sunny: Mind if I ask you a question?

Harry Callahan: Go ahead.

Sunny: What does a girl have to do to go to bed with you?

Harry Callahan: [blinks twice, then smiles] Try knocking on the door.

Harry Callahan: You know those guys?

Early Smith: They came through the Academy after me. They stick together like flypaper, you know? Everybody thought they were queer for each other.

Harry Callahan: Tell you something. If the rest of you could shoot like them, I wouldn't care if the whole damn department was queer.

Pilot: Excuse me, Captain. This may seem silly, but - can you fly?

Harry Callahan: Nope. Never even had a lesson.

Man at Mailbox: [seeing Harry take apart a mailbox] Hey, what's going on down here?

Harry Callahan: Taking apart the mailbox, what does it look like?

Man at Mailbox: Well you people live here, right? What the hell are you doing to the mailbox, did you lose your key?

Harry Callahan: Why don't you mind your own goddamn business?

Man at Mailbox: Ummm. That's my mailbox too, now. Don't you get smart with me!

[after a moment]

Man at Mailbox: Tampering with the mail's a federal offense. I'm calling the police.

[starts to head upstairs to do so]

Harry Callahan: I am the police.

Man at Mailbox: [comes back down] What?... oh. The cop who lives upstairs?

[Harry has the mailbox open now and finds a miniature bomb inside, with a red light lit up on it. He takes it out and clicks a button causing the red light to go out]

Man at Mailbox: What's that?

Harry Callahan: Plastic explosive.

Man at Mailbox: [quavering voice] A bomb?

Harry Callahan: Yeah, that's right. If you'd bothered me any more, we'd all be stuck to the ceiling now. Here... would you like to hold it?

Man at Mailbox: No no, I don't want to get involved!

[runs upstairs]

[the phone rings, and Harry answers it]

Harry Callahan: Yah?

Lieutenant Briggs: Harry, this is Briggs. Are you alone?

Harry Callahan: No, as a matter of fact, I'm entertaining a young lady friend.

Lieutenant Briggs: Well, put your pants back on, Callahan, and come down to the city morgue as fast as you can.

Harry Callahan: [Harry is confronted by three of the vigilante cops] You heroes killed a dozen people this week. What are you going to do next week?

Officer Davis: Kill a dozen more.

Harry Callahan: Well, I just work for the city, Briggs!

Lieutenant Briggs: So do I, longer than you, and I never had to take my gun out of its holster once. I'm proud of that.

Harry Callahan: Well, you're a good man, lieutenant. A good man always knows his limitations...

Lieutenant Briggs: [With gun pointed] Just hold it right there, Callahan. No tricks!

Harry Callahan: [Activates the bomb he's holding out of sight] Your organization is through, Briggs.

Lieutenant Briggs: [Nods slyly] There's a lot more where they came from, believe me. Move out of the way. Move it!

[Harry tosses the bomb in the backseat and steps away. Briggs gets in]

Lieutenant Briggs: Uphold the law. You just killed three police officers, Harry. And the only reason why I'm not gonna kill you, is because I'm gonna prosecute you- with your own system. It'll be my word against yours. Who's gonna believe you? You're a killer, Harry. A maniac.

[Briggs starts to drive away when the car blows up]

Harry Callahan: A man's GOT to know his limitations.

[Walks away]

Lieutenant Briggs: You're a good cop, Harry. You had a chance to join my team, but you decided to stick with the system.

Harry Callahan: Briggs, I hate the goddamn system! But until someone comes along with changes that make sense, I'll stick with it.

Infirmary Doctor: [stitching up Harry's head] Sure you don't want a local for this, Harry? Takes about seven stitches.

Harry Callahan: No, thanks.

Infirmary Doctor: Ok, it's your ass...

Harry Callahan: My head, the cut's on my head.

Infirmary Doctor: Why does everybody suddenly become a comedian in here?

Lieutenant Briggs: [comes in with Captain Avery] Does he have to stay in here?

Infirmary Doctor: No, I could stop and let the man's brains run out all over his shoes.

Captain Avery: Rogers, I don't need to have a doctor display that kind of attitude. A police officer is dead.

Infirmary Doctor: Sorry.

Lieutenant Briggs: I got those warrants for a search of the premises, Callahan, not for you to become judge, jury and executioner. It was supposed to be a simple arrest.

Harry Callahan: Well arresting a killer like Palancio isn't always simple.

Lieutenant Briggs: People are guilty until proven... I mean... goddamnit, you know what I mean. This city is on the verge of the worst criminal violence in it's history, and you have to start full scale military operations.

Harry Callahan: I didn't start shooting at anyone that didn't start shooting at me first.

Captain Avery: Every time you pull out that gun, my paperwork backs up for three goddamn months! The chief and I have already conferred on this matter, Callahan - a full investigation is warranted here.

[turns and leaves]

Lieutenant Briggs: [nodding repeatedly, obviously upset] What about a dead cop? I warned you against taking them.

Harry Callahan: Sweet was killed with the first shot. Besides, they were tipped off. They knew we were coming, Briggs.

Lieutenant Briggs: How? Don't hand me that crap.

Harry Callahan: I'm telling you, they knew we were coming. After 200 arrests, I know the difference!

Lieutenant Briggs: If I have my way, Callahan, you won't make another arrest as long as you live.

Harry Callahan: [contemptous] Is that all, lieutenant?

Lieutenant Briggs: No, that's not all. I want that slug you showed me.

Harry Callahan: I ran that through ballistics, it was nothing, the rifling was totally different.

Lieutenant Briggs: It's still state's evidence, I want it anyway.

Harry Callahan: [takes it out and throws it at Briggs] Eat it!

[the bullet hits Briggs in the chest and drops to the floor]

Harry Callahan: [Briggs bends down to get it and then slowly gets back up glaring at Harry]

Harry Callahan: [someone knocks on Harry's door] Who is it?

[no answer and there's another knock]

Harry Callahan: [takes gun out and aims it at door] Come on in.

Lieutenant Briggs: [enters] I don't like looking down one of those.

[Harry reholsters his gun]

Lieutenant Briggs: Turn right here... get on the freeway.

Harry Callahan: The freeway? You got a new route to City Hall, Lieutenant?

Harry Callahan: [Briggs puts his glasses away, takes his gun out and points it at Callahan] Your gun's out of it's holster, Briggs. First time?

Lieutenant Briggs: You know you're not going to City Hall, Callahan. The only way you're going anywhere is in a rubber bag.

Harry Callahan: [seeing the three hold-up men come into the store] Well, here's three salty-lookin' dudes!

Harry Callahan: Couldn't of happened to a nicer bunch of guys.

Lieutenant Briggs: You're on loan to Stakeout, Callahan.

Harry Callahan: That's right, Lieutenant! You saw to that.

Lieutenant Briggs: [Comparing bullets under a microscope] Close, but no match. It has much more lines than the other. Where'd you get it from, by the way?

Harry Callahan: Oh, just some hunch.

Lieutenant Briggs: Tell me where.

Harry Callahan: Look, it doesn't matter because it doesn't match up, so there's no reason for me to tell you.

Lieutenant Briggs: Don't play any crap games with me.

Walter, Crime Scene Investigator: [Harry and Walter are examining the car of the pimp shot to death] Now, he'd have to be standing right here, this close. Point-blank range.

Harry Callahan: The driver's license and a hundred dollar bill were out, almost like he was showing it to a traffic cop.

Walter, Crime Scene Investigator: Yeah. And from what we have it figures to be someone impersonating a police officer. On the cars at least, it's been done before. This close it would have to be someone he would never recognize.

Harry Callahan: Or never suspect.

Officer Phil Sweet: What kind of a load do you use in that .44?

Harry Callahan: It's a light Special. This size gun it gives you better control and less recoil than a .357 Magnum with wadcutters.

Harry Callahan: Where'd you learn to shoot like that? Certainly not around here.

Officer Phil Sweet: No, sir. Airborne Rangers... Special Forces.

Harry Callahan: And how about the rest of these guys? Are they as good as you?

Officer Phil Sweet: Well, Grimes here... I'd say he's about even with me... Astrachan's a little better on a good day

Officer Red Astrachan: [snickers] A little better?

Officer Phil Sweet: And Davis there... he's just dog crazy. He's a lot better.

Harry Callahan: A lot better? You sure show a sense of style... Sweet is it? Well, when I get back on homicide I hope you boys will come see me.

[Callahan dares a crook to shoot his hostage]

Harry Callahan: Go ahead, make my day.

Crook: [during a diner robbery] What's you doing, you pighead sucka?

Harry Callahan: Every day for the past ten years, Loretta there's been giving me a large black coffee, today she gives me a large black coffee only it has sugar in it, a lotta sugar. I just came back to complain. Now, you boys put those guns down.

Crook: Say what?

Harry Callahan: Well, we're not just gonna let you walk out of here.

Crook: Who'se we sucka?

Harry Callahan: [slowly drawing his .44 Magnum] Smith and Wesson... and me.

Burly Detective: What do ya think, a gang hit, screwed-up drug score, unlucky John, or an unhappy love affair? Huh? Don't tell me this shit's gettin' to ya. Not Harry Callahan. Say it ain't so.

Harry Callahan: No, this stuff isn't gettin' to me. The knifings, the beatings, old ladies being bashed in the head for their Social Security checks, teachers being thrown out of a fourth-floor window because they don't give As, that doesn't bother me a bit.

Burly Detective: Come on, Harry. Take it easy.

Harry Callahan: Or this job, either. Having to wade through the scum of this city, being swept away by bigger and bigger waves of corruption, apathy and red tape. Nah, that doesn't bother me. But you know what does bother me?

Burly Detective: What?

Harry Callahan: You know what makes me really sick to my stomach?

Burly Detective: What?

Harry Callahan: Is watching you stuff your face with those hot dogs. Nobody, I mean NOBODY puts ketchup on a hot dog.

Harry Callahan: Listen, punk. To me you're nothin' but dogshit, you understand? And a lot of things can happen to dogshit. It can be scraped up with a shovel off the ground. It can dry up and blow away in the wind. Or it can be stepped on and squashed. So take my advice and be careful where the dog shits ya!

Captain Briggs: Don't you lecture me, you son of a bitch! Do you know who I am? Do you know my record?

Harry Callahan: Yeah... you're a legend in your own mind.

Horace King: So I heard you got a forced vacation.

Harry Callahan: [takes his magnum gun out] Uh-huh.

Horace King: You still use the Magnum .44?

Harry Callahan: Pretty powerful. You want see?

Horace King: Sure.

Harry Callahan: [shoots a tree stump and some metal. Tons of wood splinters go all over the place in the bullets make shattering circles in the metal!]

Horace King: Look, you got start being careful. I think you really should go on vacation.

Harry Callahan: Forget it. I never take a vacation.

Horace King: Well either that or quit.

Harry Callahan: That's good idea right there. I really should quit. Then I can handle the law my own way.

Horace King: Yeah, but then you'll be a JAMF.

Harry Callahan: Uh huh. And what is a JAMF?

Horace King: Jive ass mother...

Harry Callahan: [cutting off just in time] Forget I asked.

Harry Callahan: Do you know the emergency phone number for San Francisco General? Well, why don't you call them right now and have them send down an ambulance. Tell them there's two sorry-looking assholes here with multiple contusions and various abrasions and broken bones.

Captain Briggs: Think things over, Callahan. Get with it. It's a whole new ball game these days.

Harry Callahan: Funny. I never thought of it as a game.

[Bennett finds Jennifer's gun on Mick]

Harry Callahan: Run it through Ballistics. I think you'll find that *his* gun there, was used in *all* the killings.

Officer Bennett: So it's over?

Harry Callahan: Yeah, it's over.

Eddie: Hey, can't you see our sister's in mourning? Why don't you get the hell out of here?

Harry Callahan: [to Eddie and Carl] Why don't you boys suck some fish heads, huh?

[punches Carl and is about to punch Eddie]

Mrs. Kruger: [with a gun] Don't even think about it!

Harry Callahan: I'll come back, when you're less bereaved.

[Harry, Lt. Donnelly & Capt. Briggs are meeting in the Commissioner's office, after Harry's confrontation with Threlkis the gangster]

Captain Briggs: [shouting] In more than 30 years of police work, this is the single, most OUTRAGEOUS transgression of authority I ever heard about. What the HELL did you think you were doing?

Harry Callahan: My job.

Captain Briggs: Is it your job, to harass & incite an old man into a heart attack?

Harry Callahan: My job is to investigate homicide. That old man happens to be one of the biggest crime lords on the west coast. How the hell was I supposed to know he was gonna vapor-lock?

Captain Briggs: But you hoped he would?

Harry Callahan: The Doker case is mine. It was at a standstill. I was just trying to break it loose.

Captain Briggs: Sure, with threats and intimidation!

Harry Callahan: Any way possible!

Captain Briggs: Are you aware that you have destroyed MONTHS - of intelligence & surveillance work? We're talking thousands of dollar, hundreds of man-hours? Special investigations has been BUSTING ITS ASS preparing a case against Threlkis.

Harry Callahan: He would have just snaked his way out of it. Maybe we saved the taxpayers a little money.

Captain Briggs: [with contempt] I ought to bust your ass down to traffic. Or better yet, kick it off the force! You're a dinosaur, Callahan. Your ideas don't fit today.

Harry Callahan: Just what ideas are these? That murder's a crime? That it shouldn't be punished?

Captain Briggs: [sneering] Hey, don't you lecture me, you son-of-a-bitch. You know who you're talking to, huh? You know MY record?

Harry Callahan: [disgusted] Yeah. You're a legend in your own mind!

Captain Briggs: [angrily] Goddamn you, Callahan!

Police Commissioner: Gentlemen, that's enough! Inspector, your methods are unconventional to say the least. Well, you get results. But often your successes are more costly to this department in terms of publicity & physical destruction than most other men's failures!

Lt. Donnelly: Commissioner, now I...

Police Commissioner: [cuts Donnelly off] Please, Lieutenant! The press will have a field day with this latest escapade. There may be further civil & legal repercussions. As a matter of fact there may even be attempts at retaliation. I think it would be wise if the inspector took some time off.

[Briggs nods approvingly]

Lt. Donnelly: Harry, these bastards are not a bunch of junkies. In their minds you killed Threlkis, same as if you pulled the trigger. They're not gonna stop, they're gonna keep comin' after you.

Harry Callahan: Good, that way we'll know where they are.

Lt. Donnelly: You're incredible Callahan!

Lt. Donnelly: So this is your idea of rest and relaxation? Peace and quiet?

Harry Callahan: [exasperated] Look, am I on the job or not?

Lt. Donnelly: Yes, you are.

Harry Callahan: Good. Then I'll get on it.

Lt. Donnelly: It's not what you think. Remember that cock-shot stiff up near the cliff house?

Harry Callahan: Yeah.

Lt. Donnelly: He's been in the city for a few years now. Mostly clean, but definitely out in the shade. He seems strictly small-time. But maybe he just didn't get caught.

Harry Callahan: What's your point?

Lt. Donnelly: He came from San Paolo, born and raised. I want you to get down there and find out whatever you can.

Harry Callahan: What is THIS bullshit?

Lt. Donnelly: It's a murder case, Harry! Look, you wanna work, then work! You got you assignment, get on it!

Lt. Donnelly: [as Harry is leaving] Take all the time you need. You don't have to hurry back!

Chief Lester Jannings: So you're the famous Harry Callahan. So I'm going to tell you two things. We don't have any trouble in this town and we don't need any from you. Got it?

Harry Callahan: [bitter] Aye-aye, sir.

Ray Parkins: [approaching Callahan] Well hey there, cutie. Wanna buy me a drink?

Harry Callahan: [uninterested] Not today.

Ray Parkins: Come on, sailor. There must be something you want to ask me. You might get lucky!

Harry Callahan: Only with humans.

Police Commissioner: I think it would be wise if the Inspector took some time off.

Harry Callahan: Are you suspending me, sir?

Police Commissioner: No, I'm saying you take a vacation until this cools off.

Harry Callahan: But I'm not up for a vacation!

Police Commissioner: Callahan, I'm not going to fence with you. Take a few days off.

Harry Callahan: Swell!

Harry Callahan: Looks like I owe you one, meat head.

Harry Callahan: [Turning around, pointing his gun at Horace's nose] Good morning, Horace.

Horace King: Sweet Sister Sadie, where the hell did you get that?

Harry Callahan: I've had it a while. I just thought I'd get used to it.

Horace King: I heard about the car. Fabulous, coming after you in tanks.

Harry Callahan: Yeah, ther're making those these days. For sheiks and business executives, hoods. Impregnable to about anything but artillery.

Horace King: Well, you got that covered.

[Horace King Fires two shotgun blasts a the target]

Harry Callahan: Not bad.

Horace King: Not bad, my ass! You've got to strain the remains for the fingerprints.

Harry Callahan: Well, this is the .44 Magnum Auto-Mag and it hold a 300-grain cartridge. And, if properly used, it can remove the fingerprints.

Jennifer Spencer: I saw the commotion the other day; you're either a cop or public enemy number one.

Harry Callahan: Heh. Some people might say both.

Jennifer Spencer: Really, who?

Harry Callahan: Oh, bozos with big brass nameplates on their desk and asses the shape of the seat of their chairs.

Jennifer Spencer: Why?

Harry Callahan: Ah, it's a question of methods. Everybody wants results but nobody wants to do what they have to do to get them done.

Coffee Shop Waitress: Hey, mister. Is that your dog?

Harry Callahan: Why? Do you want him?

Harry Callahan: [enters his darkened hotel room]

Harry's dog (Meat Head): [growls]

Harry Callahan: [flicks on the light to see a white English bulldog with a small card attached to him saying - A GIFT FOR YOU]

Harry Callahan: [looks at card]

[ENJOY - FROM HORACE]

Harry Callahan: Damn you, Horace!

Harry's dog (Meat Head): [starts spraying on the rug]

Harry Callahan: Swell.

Bar Patron: [after slugging Ray Parkins] Are you looking for trouble, pal?

Harry Callahan: I'm looking for friends of George Wilburn.

Bar Patron: What'd he do?

Harry Callahan: He lost his balls... he got killed.

[the whole bar starts laughing]

Jennifer Spencer: So what now?

Harry Callahan: Now, I guess I'll have to...

Jennifer Spencer: [cutting him off] read me my rights? And where was all this concern for my rights when I was being beaten and mauled? And where were my sister's rights when she was being *brutalized*? There is a thing called justice Callahan, and is it justice that they should all just walk away?

Lt. Donnelly: Helluva way to spend the night off Harry!

Harry Callahan: You joining the act, too?

Lt. Donnelly: No for chrissakes! Back off a little! I'm worried about your ass. You're either gonna get it shot off or kicked outta here!

Harry Callahan: So what else is new?

Harry Callahan: [to Sao Paulo suspect he's chased down with the Retirement Home bus] I suppose I ought to

[sarcastically]

Harry Callahan: read you your rights?

[Callaghan learns he is being transferred to Personnel]

Harry Callahan: Personnel? That's for assholes!

Capt McKay: I was in Personnel for ten years.

Harry Callahan: Yeah.

Capt McKay: $14,379.

Harry Callahan: How can that be?

Capt McKay: You want an itemized account? You took out two front doors, one front window, 12 feet of counter, plus damages to the stock, plus one city vehicle totaled, not to mention three hostages in the hospital, all of whom will probably sue the city.

Harry Callahan: For what?

Capt McKay: Excessive use of force. For your information, Callahan, the minority community has just about had it with this kind of police work.

Harry Callahan: By the "minority community", I suppose you're talking about the hoods.

Mustapha: Callahan, you're on the wrong side.

Harry Callahan: How do you figure that?

Mustapha: You go out and put your ass on the line for a bunch of dudes who'd no sooner let you in the front door than they would me.

Harry Callahan: I'm not doin' it for them.

Mustapha: Who then?

Harry Callahan: You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

Capt McKay: I said I wanted the hoods run out of town but I never said to use violence!

Harry Callahan: What did you want me to do, yell trick-or-treat at 'em?

[about Kate Moore]

Harry Callahan: She wants to play lumberjack, she's going to have to learn to handle her end of the log.

Harry Callahan: May I make a statement, McKay?

Capt McKay: Go ahead!

Harry Callahan: Your mouthwash ain't makin' it.

Mustapha: You really *are* a dirty bastard, ain't you, Harry?

Harry Callahan: The dirtiest.

Harry Callahan: [tackles Henry Lee in a church while knocking over some pews] All right, speedy, you're under arrest!

Father John: In the name of God, man, this is a church. What are you doing?

Harry Callahan: I'm a police officer, this man's under arrest.

Henry Lee: Father, help me, I wasn't doing a damn thing. This guy is just rousting me.

Father John: Would it be asking too much to see some credentials, Officer?

Harry Callahan: This guy runs like a rabbit. I'm not about to let him go.

Father John: I'd like to see the credentials, right now.

Harry Callahan: If you insist.

[slugs suspect out cold and then gets his credentials out]

Harry Callahan: Callahan, Inspector.

Father John: Well, Callahan... I think you're a disgrace to this city!

Kate Moore: [bursts into the church, gun drawn] Okay, nobody move!

Harry Callahan: Marvelous.

Lt. Dobbs: Are you finished with the questioning, Callahan?

Harry Callahan: Hypothetical situation, huh? All right, I'm standing on the street corner, and Mrs. Grey there comes up and propositions me. She says if I come home with her, for $5 she'll put on an exhibition with a Shetland pony...

Mrs. Grey: If this is your idea of humor, Inspector...

Lt. Dobbs: All right, what are you trying to do here, Callahan?

Harry Callahan: I'm just trying to find out if anybody in this room knows what the hell law is being broken, besides cruelty to animals.

Kate Moore: That's a conspiracy under title 7, Section 182, Paragraph 1 of the California Penal Code. A conspiracy to commit a misdemeanor is in fact a felony, and according to People vs That's a conspiracy under title 7, Section 182, Paragraph 1 of the California Penal Code. A conspiracy to commit a misdemeanor is in fact a felony, and according to People vs Basso...

Harry Callahan: [heading into the Coroner's office] Tell me, ever been to one of these before?

Kate Moore: No.

Harry Callahan: In that case, I'd like to suggest that you sit out here.

Kate Moore: Please don't concern yourself, Inspector.

Harry Callahan: [speaking to the mayor & Capt. McKay] If you're talking about the Mustapha bust, nobody smashed anything. In fact, I made a deal with Mustapha - he was gonna help me find out who the people were!

The Mayor: [stunned] What's he talking about?

Harry Callahan: Doesn't it bother anyone that no weapons were found?

Capt McKay: We'll find them!

Harry Callahan: [to McKay] Meanwhile, the people are still out there and they're going to blow the HELL out of half this city. And meanwhile, you're telling everybody how great we are!

Capt McKay: All right, Callahan, button your lip, that's an order!

Harry Callahan: Captain, if you want to jerk all these people off, you can, but don't do it with me.

Capt McKay: That's it, Callahan! You just got yourself a 60-day suspension!

Harry Callahan: [angrily] Make it 90!

Capt McKay: 180! Give me your star.

[Harry pulls out his badge and angrily hands it to Capt. McKay]

Harry Callahan: [angrily] Here's a 7-point suppository, Captain!

Capt McKay: [stunned] WHAT did you say?

Harry Callahan: [angrily] I said STICK IT IN YOUR ASS!

[Harry walks down the steps toward the mob of reporters, but does not stop. Kate Moore soon follows him out]

Harry Callahan: I'll tell you what you are to me, little man. You're just a maggot who sells dirty pictures.

Lt. Al Bressler: [Harrys playing pool when Bressler and KcKay approach him about the case] No. We play as a team.

Harry Callahan: As I remember, the last time we played as a team I got the cue stuck in my ass.

Harry Callahan: Maxwell!

[Maxwell fires at Callahan]

Harry Callahan: You fuckin' fruit.

[Callahan fires an M72 LAW rocket launcher, obliterating Maxwell]

'Big Ed' Mustapha: [studying a list of suspects] Bobby Maxwell. He's the main man.

Harry Callahan: You know him?

'Big Ed' Mustapha: Stone waste of white.

Harry Callahan: I'm looking for Ed Mustapha.

Abdul: You holding some kinda warrant, honky?

Harry Callahan: What I'm holding is Henry Lee Caldwell.

Abdul: [beat] Hey, well, I never heard of him. Now let's see how fast you and the lady fuzz can get your little white asses out of here!

Police officer: [At the scene of an explosion in a men's room] Well, we were lucky this time.

Harry Callahan: Getting so a fellow can't even go to the can in peace.

Mustapha: [inviting Harry to come in and talk] Why don't you just come into my office here.

[Inspector Moore starts following Harry in]

Mustapha: Uh, just you.

Abdul: Don't worry, pig, we'll see she don't get lonesome.

Harry Callahan: Well, that's mighty white of you.

[start to move closer to Kate Moore with mischief looks]

Kate Moore: Now gentlemen, before anybody does anything uncalled for, I'd like to take this opportunity to point out to you that I am a police officer, and if you touch me with intent to do bodily harm...

[fades out as Harry continues inside]

Kate Moore: [... moments later when Harry exits shop, the confrontation is still going on]

Harry Callahan: Having fun, Inspector? If you're through socializing, we do have work to do.

[leaves the shop]

Kate Moore: [to herself] Son of a bitch.

[She catches up to Harry]

Kate Moore: Look, Inspector, if you have some sort of objection to the way I handled myself, I wish you'd just say so... I thought I was doing all right.

Harry Callahan: [aside to the camera, after getting in] Marvelous.

Frank DiGiorgio: [DiGiorgio is dying] Harry, listen, the punk who cut me. I've seen him before.

Harry Callahan: Where?

Frank DiGiorgio: ...I just can't make the name.

Lt. Al Bressler: Well, where do you know him from, Frank?

Frank DiGiorgio: That homicide, remember, Harry? The old hooker, Filmore district. The summer of '71?

Harry Callahan: Yeah, well, what about it?

Frank DiGiorgio: He was one of the pimps we questioned. We liked him for it, Harry, we liked him real good.

Harry Callahan: As I recall, we liked everybody north of Market Street on that one.

Frank DiGiorgio: He had one of those cutesy-pie, little boy names: Charlie, or something... or Bobby...

Lt. Al Bressler: I'll check Records, they should have your notes.

[Bressler leaves]

Frank DiGiorgio: Ten-to-one they blow it.

Harry Callahan: Not this time, Frank.

Harry Callahan: Where is he?

Mustapha: He went white. Why, did he do something else foolish?

Harry Callahan: For $75, you get to make it with a rubber dolly.

Frank DiGiorgio: Hey, what's with the citizen?

[Harry turns the car around and approaches a restaurant, with a worried-looking waiter outside. Harry addresses the waiter as he pulls up]

Harry Callahan: Police officer, what's the problem?

Waiter #1: Oh, thank God. He's inside.

[he turns to go back into the restaurant]

Waiter #1: [Harry looks at him puzzedly, doesn't move]

Waiter #1: [noticing Harry isn't following him] Come on, it's a heart attack!

Harry Callahan: [to Digorgio] Wait here.

Waiter #1: Make some room, please. Please move aside. Please, move aside, this is an emergency.

[Harry and the waiter continue into the restaurant]

Waiter #1: Excuse us, please. Would you please move over. Would you please give us room.

[to the owner]

Waiter #1: He's a police officer.

Restaurant Owner: Police? But where's the ambulance?

Waiter #2: [to Harry] This poor man's had a heart attack. I think he's still breathing, though.

Harry Callahan: [gazes down at the man on the floor, then begins kicking him in the ribs] Come on, get up. Get up! Get up. Come on.

Waiter #2: What are you doing?

Harry Callahan: [continuing] Come on, get up, get up, get up! Come on!

[Harry grabs him by the tie and yanks him to his feet]

Restaurant Customer: [shocked] I say!

Harry Callahan: [pulling the man out of the restaurant by his tie] Party's over.

Freddie the Fainter: Thanks a lot, Harry.

Harry Callahan: What are you squawking about? You got the free meal, didn't you?

Freddie the Fainter: Yeah, but I always enjoy that ride in the ambulance.

Harry Callahan: Get out of here.

[shoves him away]

Kate Moore: [queasy and sweaty as autopsy surgeon is examining subject's brain]

Autopsy Surgeon: Subject brain shows no contrecoup-type damage or blood clotting.

[peering closer]

Autopsy Surgeon: Oh, Jesus H. Christ, Harry, come here and look at this! It's the damnedest thing I ever saw.

Harry Callahan: What's that?

Autopsy Surgeon: What it says: "Eat at Luigi's!"

[he starts laughing. Harry just rolls his eyes. Autopsy surgeon continues laughing, and his assistant joins in on the laughter]

Kate Moore: [gulps and rushes out of room]

Harry Callahan: [in bar late one night is playing billiards when Bressler and McKay enter]

Lt. Al Bressler: Harry?

Harry Callahan: What can I do for you?

Harry Callahan: We've got to talk.

Harry Callahan: Go right ahead.

Capt McKay: I want all the information that you have on this case, Callahan.

Harry Callahan: You've got it - black militants, remember?

Lt. Al Bressler: Come on, Harry, so we were wrong.

Lt. Al Bressler: [on phone as Harry enters] Hey Harry, I'm just talking to...

[Harry drops a defused bomb on Al's desk]

Lt. Al Bressler: Jesus Christ!

Harry Callahan: Give him my best...

Harry Callahan: What about that punk?

Lt. Al Bressler: You mean the suspect?

Harry Callahan: Suspect my ass!

Harry Callahan: A 357 magnum is a good weapon, but I've seen 38's bounce off of windshieds. No good in a city like this.

Massage Girl: Hi, there.

Harry Callahan: You're not Wanda.

Massage Girl: Well, these are the breaks. Needs air. Can't hump a limp dummy, I always say.

[picks up rubber dolly and starts blowing air into it]

Massage Girl: Uh, speaking of limp dummies, don't you think you better strip?

Harry Callahan: Where's Wanda?

Massage Girl: Beats the hell out of me, Tom.

[continues blow air in dolly. Harry picks up her cigarette and burns a hole in the dolly]

Harry Callahan: [grabs lady's throat. Air hisses out of the dolly] Now, I'm going to ask you just one last time, where's Wanda?

Massage Girl: I don't know, man, I don't know. She left here a couple of weeks ago. Ask Buchinski, he runs the whole damn street.

Harry Callahan: Where do I find this Buchinski?

Massage Girl: Down the hall, to the right.

Harry Callahan: Is that a confessional over there?

[Harry points to the corner of the church]

Father John: [smugly] You wanna make a confession?

Harry Callahan: You first!

[Harry grabs Father John & shoves him roughly into the confessional]

Harry Callahan: I want Maxwell!

[pulls his gun out]

'Big Ed' Mustapha: Why should I help you?

Harry Callahan: Because if you don't, I've talked to Robbery. They might be interested in these elaborate furnishings you have.

'Big Ed' Mustapha: What are you talking about?

Harry Callahan: [picks up animal figurine] Room 401, Fairmount.

[picks up another figurine]

Harry Callahan: Rest easy at the Holiday Inn.

Kate Moore: [arriving at Mustapha's barber shop headquarters] OK, I give up... what's this?

Harry Callahan: This is the Fillmore chapter of the VFW... Very Few Whites.

Abdul: [Callahan and Moore enter "Big Ed" Mustapha's barber shop headquarters] Well, well. If it ain't the Mighty Whitey and friend.

Harry Callahan: I'm looking for "Big Ed" Mustapha.

Koblo: Sorry, honky. She can stay, but, uh, you got to go!

Abdul: Yeah, baby, we trying to keep up the standards. You understand.

Harry Callahan: You're not making us feel too welcome.

Koblo: Oh, you welcome! 'Bout as welcome as a turd in a swimming pool!

[Crowd laughs until Callahan and Moore display their badges]

Abdul: [slowly and sarcastically] Well, lookee here. If it ain't the fuzz.

Harry Callahan: [has Buchinski's head over toilet] Wanda, where is she?

Buchinski: Go to hell.

Harry Callahan: [takes nearby plunger and presses it on man's face] One more time. Wanda.

Buchinski: All right, all right. She quit a couple of weeks ago, that's all I know.

[Harry presses harder with the plunger]

Buchinski: She got religion!

Harry Callahan: What do you mean?

Buchinski: She been hangin' around that little church down on Garvey.

Harry Callahan: [jams plunger down, off camera. The toilet flushes. Harry departs]

Father John: [Talking to Harry about the People's Revolutionary Strike Force] These people are at war!

Harry Callahan: So are we!