Jill Layton: Care for a little necrophilia? Hmmm?
Sam Lowry: Excuse me, Dawson, can you put me through to Mr. Helpmann's office?
Dawson: I'm afraid I can't sir. You have to go through the proper channels.
Sam Lowry: And you can't tell me what the proper channels are, because that's classified information?
Dawson: I'm glad to see the Ministry's continuing its tradition of recruiting the brightest and best, sir.
Sam Lowry: Thank you, Dawson.
Arresting Officer: This is your receipt for your husband... and this is my receipt for your receipt.
Harry Tuttle: Listen, kid, we're all in it together.
Santa Claus: What would you like for Christmas?
Little girl on his lap: My own credit card.
Harry Tuttle: Bloody paperwork. Huh!
Sam Lowry: I suppose one has to expect a certain amount.
Harry Tuttle: Why? I came into this game for the action, the excitement. Go anywhere, travel light, get in, get out, wherever there's trouble, a man alone. Now they got the whole country sectioned off, you can't make a move without a form.
Mr. Warrenn: What is this mess? An empty desk is an efficient desk.
Sam Lowry: My name's Lowry. Sam Lowry. I've been told to report to Mr. Warrenn.
Porter - Information Retrieval: Thirtieth floor, sir. You're expected.
Sam Lowry: Um... don't you want to search me?
Porter - Information Retrieval: No sir.
Sam Lowry: Do you want to see my ID?
Porter - Information Retrieval: No need, sir.
Sam Lowry: But I could be anybody.
Porter - Information Retrieval: No you couldn't sir. This is Information Retrieval.
Guard: Don't fight it son. Confess quickly! If you hold out too long you could jeopardize your credit rating.
Kurtzmann: [on Buttle] You see? The population census has got him down as "dormanted." Uh, the Central Collective Storehouse computer has got him down as "deleted."
Sam Lowry: Hang on.
[goes to a computer terminal]
Kurtzmann: Information Retrieval has got him down as "inoperative." And there's another one - security has got him down as "excised." Administration has got him down as "completed."
Sam Lowry: He's dead.
Jack Lint: It's not my fault that Buttle's heart condition didn't appear on Tuttle's file!
Mr. Helpmann: Bad sportsmanship. A ruthless minority of people seem to have forgotten good old-fashioned virtues. They just can't stand seeing the other fellow win. If these people would just play the game...
Mrs. Terrain: There's been a little complication with my complication
Telegram Girl: [dancing wildly, while singing in an absurdly high soprano] A-a-a-a-a-a-A-a-a-a-a-a-a-A-a-a-a-a-a-a-A-A! Mrs Ida Lowry requests the pleasure of your COMPANYYYY! At her APARTMENT TONIIIIGHTT! For eight thirtee-EE-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-EE, to MIDNIGHTTT! To celebrate the completion of her recent cosmetic SURGERYYY! E-e-e-e-e-e-E-e-e-e-e-e-E! wwwWWAAAAAAIIIIIIIII!
[very long pause, Sam glances around nervously]
Sam Lowry: ummm... Thanks.
Telegram Girl: It's reply paid.
Sam Lowry: Is it?
[telegram girl nods]
Sam Lowry: oh... um... two, three,
Sam Lowry: Mother, I sorry that I am unable to come to your parrrttty...
Telegram Girl: You DON'T have to sing it!
Sam Lowry: I don't?
Shirley: [no meals yet] Salt?
Bill - Dept. of Works: Mistakes? We don't make mistakes.
Charlie, Department of Works: Bloody typical, they've gone back to metric without telling us.
Harry Tuttle: Listen, this old system of yours could be on fire and I couldn't even turn on the kitchen tap without filling out a 27b/6... Bloody paperwork.
Kurtzmann: Has anybody seen Sam Lowry?
Mr. Warrenn: There you are, your own number on your very own door. And behind that door, your very own office! Welcome to the team, DZ-015
Harry Tuttle: ...well, that's a pipe of a different color.
Mrs. Buttle: What have you done with his body?
Sam Lowry: Yes... No... I don't know. I don't know what I want.
Dr. Lewis Jaffe: Just me and my little knife! Snip snip - slice slice... can you believe it?
Jack Lint: This is information retrieval not information dispersal.
Holly: Put it on, big boy. I won't look at your willy.
[Lime blows the dust from the keyboard, then presses a key. waits for something to happen]
Lime: [worried and somewhat frustrated] Sod it, it's broken!
Sam Lowry: You haven't switched it on.
[presses a key, the computer starts]
Lime: Oh, yes.
[looks at Sam, waiting for him to say something]
Lime: [convincingly] Look, you're putting me off, standing there. Why don't you go back to your office and I'll give you a knock when I finish?
Kurtzmann: Dead? That's awful. We'll never get rid of the bloody thing now!
Harry Tuttle: My good friends call me Harry.
Kurtzmann: It's been confusion from the word go!
Jack Lint: Until this whole thing blows over, just stay away from me.
Sam Lowry: Yes, I always used to wonder if she wore falsies. False ears...
Sam Lowry: Sorry, I'm a bit of a stickler for paperwork. Where would we be if we didn't follow the correct procedures?
Sam Lowry: I assure you, Mrs. Buttle, the Ministry is very scrupulous about following up and eradicating any error. If you have any complaints which you'd like to make, I'd be more than happy to send you the appropriate forms.
Mr. Helpmann: Jill? Yes... Sam I think I ought to tell you. I'm afraid she's upped stumps and retired to the pavillion. Thrown in the towel.
Mr. Helpmann: All I can say is don't fall at the last fence. The finishing post's in sight. See you in the paddock... keep your eye on the ball.
Spoor: Where'd you get this from, eh? Out yer nostril?
Spoor: All you've got to do is blow your nose and it's fixed, in't it?
Singers: [TV commercial jingle] Central Services: We do the work, you do the pleasure.
TV commercial pitchman: Hi, there. I want to talk to you about ducts.
[Sam is arguing with his mother while Jaffe tries to perform cosmetic surgery on her]
Dr. Lewis Jaffe: Mr. Lowry, can you wait in reception? You're giving her wrinkles.
Poster: Happiness: we're all in it together.
Jack Lint: You won't get anywhere in a suit like that.
Sam Lowry: Mr. Helpmann, I'm keen to get into Information Retrieval. Mr. Helpmann, I'm dying to get at this woman... no, no, no.
Mr. Helpmann: We're fielding all their strokes, running a lot of them out, and pretty consistently knocking them for six. I'd say they're nearly out of the game.
Dr. Lewis Jaffe: Faces are a doddle compared to tits and ass. No hairline.
Lime: Computers are my forte!
Sign: Suspicion builds Confidence.
Sam Lowry: So you don't trust me?
Sam Lowry: No, they'll be lying in wait!
Priest: In life, Mrs Terrain was beautiful. In death, not so beautiful. But the Spirit is still the same!