Al: Hey, I'm right here partner. Your stiffed ass is coming through right now.
McClane: What can you tell me about him?
Al: He's dead.
McClane: You needed a computer to figure that one out?
Al: No, no, no. You don't follow me. According to the department of defense, he's been dead for two years.

Al: Well, what is it about?
McClane: Oh, just a feeling I have.
Al: Ouch. When you get those feelings, the insurance companies start to get bankrupt.

Esperanza: Who are you?
McClane: A cop.
Esperanza: A cop?
McClane: Yeah, one of the good guys. You see, you're one of the bad guys and now that I've got your sorry ass, I'm gonna trade it for my wife.

Grant: McClane, you showed some balls out there man.
McClane: Yeah.
Grant: Now, show some good sense. Let the pros handle this.
McClane: Well, looks like the pros are on the wrong team tonight.

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

Helicopter Pilot: What's the matter cowboy, the ride too rough?
McClane: I don't like to fly.
Helicopter Pilot: Then, what are you doing here?
McClane: I don't like to lose either!

Holly: They told me there were terrorists at the airport.
McClane: Yeah, I heard that too.

Lorenzo: Hey McClane, I've got a first class unit in here, SWAT team and all. We don't need any Monday morning quarterback.
McClane: Fuck Monday morning, my wife is on one of the goddamn planes these guys are fucking with, that puts me on the playing field. And if you had moved your fat ass when I told you to, we wouldn't be hip deep in shit right now...

McClane: Captain Lorenzo?
Lorenzo: Yeah.
McClane: John McClane.
Lorenzo: Yeah, yeah. I know who you are. You're the asshole that's just broke 7 FAA and 5 District of Columbia regulations, running around my airport with a gun, shooting at people. What do you call that shit?
McClane: Self-defense.

McClane: Guess I was wrong about you, you're not such an asshole after all.
Grant: No, you were right. I'm just your kind of asshole.

McClane: Honey. What are you doing? Where are you? Did you land yet?
Holly: Honey, it's the nineties, remember? Micro-chips, Micro-waves, faxes, air phones.
McClane: He, he, he. Okay, well, as far as I'm concerned, progress peaked at frozen pizza.

McClane: Look, I'm a cop. LAPD. How about a little team spirit, eh?
Car Impounder: Oh, I was in LA once. Hated it.

Samantha: Big drug dealer on his way to prison. Gun fired in airport. Every controller and cafe shop getting beeped and hauling ass. And you, rocking the boat. Connection? Come on, McClane. Just a few words.
McClane: Ok, just a few words. Fuck off.
Samantha: Thanks, but I already got that from Colonel Stewart.

Samantha: Jesus, you give me the story and I'll have your baby.
McClane: Not the kind of ride I'm looking for.

Stewart: How is it going? [pushes McClane off the plane] Bon voyage! [McClane pulls off the gas cap as he falls] Happy landing asshole!
McClane: [pulls out lighter] Yippie kai yay, motherfucker. [throws lighter onto gas trail, igniting it and blowing up the plane as it takes off]