Phil Blackwood: [Narrating a passage of his upcoming book out loud - more than a little embellishing the truth] Despite the dozens of ravishing creatures begging to be part of his life, Swift had lived alone since his wife... was incinerated several years before, when the microwave went berserk during a thunderstorm.

Phil Blackwood: [to Phil's shock and amazement, Nina has just thrown a kitchen knife across the room, impaling a large bug on the wall] Jesus!

Nina: [Shrugging indifferently] Umm... I do not like bugs.

Phil Blackwood: Well, neither do I, but I usually scream at them and... hit 'em with a rolled up copy of "Sports Illustrated."

Phil Blackwood: [Narrating a passage of his upcoming book out loud - more than a little embellishing the truth] As the Japanese servants cleared away the remnants of Swift's gourmet meal, he and the girl exchanged sparkling repartee. His turn of phrase clearly had her entranced.

Phil Blackwood: [Narrating a passage of his upcoming book out loud - more than a little embellishing the truth] They let their towels drop to the floor. His eyes explored every inch of her glistening wet body. Her eyes explored every inch of his... muscled torso. He took her in his arms. Her breasts squashed against him like ripe pomegranates. They kissed. She nearly passed out from the rapture of the moment... but Swift, familiar with this reaction from past encounters, gathered her in his arms as her body went limp, and carried her into his bedroom.

Phil Blackwood: [Regarding Nina] I love her... I'm terrified of her.

Sam: Sounds like the normal relationship.

Sam: [Slightly incredulous after having just witnessed Nina daringly rescue a small boy from atop a barn roof] What did you say she did back in Romania?

Phil Blackwood: [Puzzled pause] ... Receptionist?

Nina: This is how we drive in Romania!

Nina: [Greeting Phil, who is sitting at the kitchen table] Did you sleep well?

Phil Blackwood: Sure! Why not? And you?

Nina: Hmm... okay.

Phil Blackwood: [Noticing she has one of his books in her hands] You're reading one of my books... I thought you were strictly Proust and Dostoevsky?

Nina: Well, I could not go to sleep last night and I knew this would help.

Phil Blackwood: [after Nina crashes out of the garage in Phil's SUV - without having bothered to open the garage door] I thought you said you "drove" in Romania!

Nina: This IS how we drive in Romania.

Phil Blackwood: As he lifted the 400-pound weights above his head, he was in agony... but he bore it in silence.

Nina: [On the way to the hospital, regarding the arrow she has accidentally shot into Phil's right buttock] What will you tell the doctor?

Phil Blackwood: That I shot myself.

Nina: With a bow and arrow?

Phil Blackwood: I didn't know it was loaded!

Sam: You think she's really trying to kill you?

Phil Blackwood: No!... Yes... Maybe... Of course not!... I don't know. Why do you ask?

Sam: Because if she kills you, I'm next. That's why!

Phil Blackwood: [Narrating a passage of his upcoming book out loud - more than a little embellishing the truth] Swift realized the only chance for the child lay in his hands. Unconcerned for his own safety, Swift scaled the towering wall of the embassy, bracing himself against the powerful Alpine winds. He calmly walked the crest of the roof - at least 300 feet above the cold slate of the courtyard. The tile broke in his grasp, and the startled screams of the women watching rose like prayers from far below... Finally, Swift reached the terrified child and, holding him tightly, swung him through the bay window of the embassy into his mother's outstretched... and eternally grateful arms.

Phil Blackwood: [On phone] Absolutely, Lieutenant. She's great.

[Dog jumps on him]

Phil Blackwood: Down! Get down!

Frank Polito: Am I interrupting something?

Phil Blackwood: [to dog] Get down!

[Into phone]

Phil Blackwood: Yes. Yes, you are.

[Turns to Nina as she's trying to pull out an arrow in his leg]

Phil Blackwood: Don't pull it!

[Screams in pain]

Nina: But it's coming. It's coming!

Phil Blackwood: Don't pull it! That's enough! Leave it alone!

[Scream in pain]

Phil Blackwood: Don't touch the shaft!


Phil Blackwood: You're pulling too hard!

Frank Polito: [Quietly] She's an animal.

Phil Blackwood: Be gentle with it. GENTLE.

Frank Polito: [Quietly] She's tearing him apart/

Phil Blackwood: You'll never get it out! We'll need help!

Frank Polito: [Hanging up the phone] . Lucky putz.