Raoul Silva: If you wanted, you could pick your own secret missions. As I do. Name it, name it. Destabilize a multinational by manipulating stocks. Bip. Easy. Interrupt transmissions from a spy satellite over Kabul... done. Hmm. Rig an election in Uganda. All to the highest bidder.
James Bond: Or a gas explosion in London.
Raoul Silva: Mm-hm. Just point and click.
James Bond: Well, everybody needs a hobby.
Raoul Silva: So what's yours?
James Bond: Resurrection.
Q: It always makes me feel a bit melancholy. Grand old war ship. being ignominiously haunted away to scrap... The inevitability of time, don't you think? What do you see?
James Bond: A bloody big ship. Excuse me.
Q: 007. I'm your new Quartermaster.
James Bond: You must be joking.
Q: Why, because I'm not wearing a lab coat?
James Bond: Because you still have spots.
Q: My complexion is hardly relevant.
James Bond: Your competence is.
Q: Age is no guarantee of efficiency.
James Bond: And youth is no guarantee of innovation.
Q: Well, I'll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field.
James Bond: Oh, so why do you need me?
Q: Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled.
James Bond: Or not pulled. It's hard to know which in your pajamas. Q.
Doctor Hall: [Bond enters the interrogation room to take his psychological test, looking toward the one way mirror. M and Mallory stand on the other side with Tanner] I'd like to start with some simple word associations. Just tell me the first word that pops into your head. For example, I say, "Day" and you might say...
James Bond: Wasted.
Doctor Hall: [sighs] All right.
Doctor Hall: Gun.
James Bond: Shot.
Doctor Hall: Agent.
James Bond: Provocateur.
Doctor Hall: Woman?
James Bond: Provocatrix.
Doctor Hall: Heart.
James Bond: Target.
Doctor Hall: Bird.
James Bond: Sky.
Doctor Hall: M.
James Bond: Bitch.
[M sighs from the other side of the interrogation room]
Doctor Hall: Sunlight
James Bond: Swim
Doctor Hall: Moon
James Bond: Dance
Doctor Hall: Murder.
James Bond: Employment.
Doctor Hall: Country.
James Bond: England.
Doctor Hall: Skyfall.
[Bond suddenly pauses]
Doctor Hall: Skyfall.
Doctor Hall: Done.
[Bond walks out - looking coldly through the one-way mirror]
Gareth Mallory: Hmm, this is going well
[he leaves, M sighs again]
James Bond: So this is it. We're both played out.
M: Well, if you believe that, why did you come back?
James Bond: Good question.
M: Because we're under attack. And you know we need you.
James Bond: Well, I'm here.
M: You'll have to be debriefed and declared fit for active service. You can only return to duty when you've passed the tests, so take them seriously. And a shower might be in order.
James Bond: I'll go home and change.
M: Oh, we've sold your flat, put your things into storage. Standard procedure on the death of an unmarried employee with no next of kin. You should have called.
James Bond: I'll find a hotel.
M: Well, you're bloody well not sleeping here.
M: Chairman, Ministers, today I've repeatedly heard how irrelevant my department has become. "Why do we need agents, the 00 section? Isn't it all rather quaint?" Well, I suppose I see a different world than you do and the truth is that what I see frightens me. I'm frightened because our enemies are no longer known to us. They do not exist on a map. They're not nations, they're individuals. And look around you. Who do you fear? Can you see a face, a uniform, a flag? No! Our world is not more transparent now, it's more opaque! It's in the shadows. That's where we must do battle. So before you declare us irrelevant, ask yourselves, how safe do you feel? Just one more thing to say, my late husband was a great lover of poetry, and, em, I suppose some of it sunk in, despite my best intentions. And here today, I remember this, I think, from Tennyson: "We are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are. One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and *not* to yield."
[as Bond is tied to a chair, an elevator lowers in front of him, and Silva appears and walks toward him]
Raoul Silva: Hello, James. Welcome. Do you like the island? My grandmother had an island. Nothing to boast of. You could walk around it in an hour, but still it was, it was a paradise for us. One summer, we went for a visit and discovered the place had been infested with rats. They'd come on a fishing boat and gorged themselves on coconut. So how do you get rats off an island? Hmm? My grandmother showed me. We buried an oil drum and hinged the lid. Then we wired coconut to the lid as bait and the rats would come for the coconut and... they would fall into the drum. And after a month, you have trapped all the rats, but what do you do then? Throw the drum into the ocean? Burn it? No. You just leave it and they begin to get hungry. And one by one...
[mimics rat munching sound]
Raoul Silva: they start eating each other until there are only two left. The two survivors. And then what? Do you kill them? No. You take them and release them into the trees, but now they don't eat coconut anymore. Now, they only eat rat. You have changed their nature. The two survivors. This is what she made us.
Raoul Silva: [Silva goes to the desk, accessing Bond's debriefing results from his computer] Medical evaluation: fail. Physical evaluation: fail. Psychological evaluation, alcohol and substance addiction indicated. Ooh! Pathological rejection of authority based on unresolved childhood trauma.
[glances to Bond then back to the computer]
Raoul Silva: Subject is not approved for field duty and immediate suspension for service advised.
[rises from the desk, going to Bond]
Raoul Silva: What is this if not betrayal? She sent you off to me, knowing you're not ready, knowing you're likely die. Mommy was very bad.
Kincade: [after shooting two of Silva's men dead] Welcome to Scotland!
[At Q's lab, Q and Tanner try to create a false trail for Silva to follow]
Q: It's a fine line. If the breadcrumb's too small, then he might miss it. Too big, and Silva will smell a rat.
Tanner: Yes, but you'd think even Silva will be able to spot that.
Q: He's the only one who could.
[Tanner turns and sees Mallory standing behind them]
Gareth Mallory: What are you doing?
Q: We're just... monitoring.
Gareth Mallory: Creating a false tracking signal for Silva to follow.
Tanner: Well, sir, um...
Q: Well, no...
Gareth Mallory: Excellent thinking, get him isolated. Send him on the A9. It's a direct route. You can monitor his progress more accurately and confirm it with the traffic cameras.
Q: But, uh... what if PM finds out?
Gareth Mallory: Then we're all buggered. Carry on.
Raoul Silva: Do you see what comes of all this running around, Mr. Bond? All this jumping and fighting, it's exhausting! Relax. You need to relax... Ah well, mother's calling. I will give her a good-bye kiss for you.
Raoul Silva: No remorse. Just as I had imagined.
M: Regret is unprofessional.
Raoul Silva: "Regret is unprofessional?" They kept me for five months in a room with no air. They tortured me and I protected your secrets. I protected you. But they made me suffer and suffer and suffer. You betrayed me. So, I had only one thing left. My cyanide capsule in my back left molar. You remember, right? So, I broke the tooth and bit into the capsule. It... burned all my insides, but I didn't die. Life clung to me like a disease. And then I understood why I had survived. I needed to look in your eyes one last time.
James Bond: Some men are coming to kill us. We're going to kill them first.
James Bond: [as his boyhood home burns down] I always hated this place.
[Bond and M drive off in the Aston Martin DB5]
M: It's not very comfortable, is it?
James Bond: [Flips up the shift knob cap to reveal the ejector seat button underneath] Are you gonna complain all the way?
M: Oh, go on, then, eject me. See if I care.
[Bond reconsiders the thought and closes the shift knob while driving]
[Bond runs and jumps on the end of the train, hanging on the door as the female conductor looks at him in confusion]
James Bond: Open the door, please!
[Conductor still stares at him]
James Bond: Open the door!
[Conductor finally opens the door before Bond walks in]
James Bond: Health and Safety. Carry on.
Raoul Silva: [Silva unbuttons Bond's shirt and peels back the shirt to expose the scar tissue where Bond removed the bullet] Ooh! See what she's done to you.
James Bond: [suspicious] Well, she never tied me to a chair.
Raoul Silva: Her loss.
[Silva begins caressing Bond's neck]
James Bond: Are you sure this is about M?
Raoul Silva: It's about her... and you, and me. You see, we are the last two rats. We can either eat each other... mmm... or eat everyone else.
[Silva strokes Bond's neck]
Raoul Silva: How you're trying to remember your training now.
Raoul Silva: What's the regulation to cover this?
[Silva strokes both of Bond's upper legs]
Raoul Silva: Well, first time for everything.
Raoul Silva: Yes?
James Bond: What makes you think this is my first time?
Raoul Silva: [sits back] Oh, Mr Bond. All the physical stuff - so dull, so dull.
Gareth Mallory: The opposition has taken the position that we're a bunch of antiquated bloody idiots fighting a war we don't understand and can't possibly win.
M: Look, three of my agents are dead already, don't you involve me in politics now...
Gareth Mallory: The Prime Minister has ordered an inquiry. You're expected to attend.
M: Attend in stocks at midday? Who's old-fashioned now?
Gareth Mallory: For Christ's sake, listen to yourself! We're a democracy, and we're responsible to the people we're supposed to defend! We can't keep fighting in the shadows, there are no more shadows!
M: You don't get this, do you? Whoever's behind this, whoever's doing this, he knows us! He's one of us! He comes from the same place as Bond, a place you say doesn't exist: the shadows!
James Bond: Not enough excitement in Istanbul?
Eve: I've been reassigned. Temporary suspension from field work.
James Bond: Really?
Eve: Mmm. Something to do with killing 007.
James Bond: Well, you gave it your best shot.
Eve: That was hardly my best shot.
James Bond: I'm not sure I could survive your best.
Eve: I doubt you'll get the chance.
James Bond: Oh good, here comes a train.
Husband at Tube Station: [after Bond has leapt onto a moving underground train] He's keen to get home.
James Bond: What was it you said? "Take the bloody shot."
M: I made a judgment call.
James Bond: You should have trusted me to finish the job.
M: It was a possibility of losing you or the certainty of losing all those other agents. I made the only decision I could and you know it.
James Bond: I think you lost your nerve.
M: What are you expecting, a bloody apology? You know the rules of the game. You've been playing it long enough. We both have.
James Bond: Maybe too long.
M: Speak for yourself.
James Bond: What a waste of good scotch.
James Bond: [as Silva arrives at Skyfall in a helicopter while playing loud music] Always got to make an entrance.
James Bond: The latest thing from Q branch; it's called a radio.
M: Mr. Silva, you're going to be transferred to Belmarsh Prison, where you will be remanded in custody, until the Crown Prosecution Service deem you fit to stand trial...
Raoul Silva: Say my name. Say it! My real name. I know you remember it.
M: Your name is on a memorial wall of the very building you attacked. I will have it struck off. Soon your past will be as nonexistent as your future. I'll never see you again.
James Bond: [as Silva falls] Last rat standing.
Sévérine: Would you mind if I ask you a business question?
James Bond: Depends on the question.
Sévérine: It has to do with - death.
James Bond: A subject in which you're well-versed.
Sévérine: And how would you know that?
James Bond: Only a certain kind of woman wears a backless dress with a Beretta 70 strapped to her thigh.
Sévérine: One can never be too careful when handsome men in tuxedos carry Walthers.
Sévérine: Be careful what you wish for...
Raoul Silva: [about M] Everyone, listen to me. Don't you dare touch her. She's mine!
James Bond: [the fat bodyguard is about to be bitten by a komodo dragon, failed to pull the trigger to James Bond] Good luck with that.
Eve: You know, Mallory's not as bad as you think.
James Bond: He's a bureaucrat.
Eve: You should do your homework. Gareth Mallory was a Lieutenant Colonel...
James Bond: Lieutenant Colonel in Northern Ireland. Hereford Regiment. Spent three months at the hands of the IRA.
Eve: So there's more to him than meets the eye.
Raoul Silva: You caught me... Now, here's your prize. The latest thing from my local toy store. It's called... radio.
Gareth Mallory: Excuse me, Prime Minister. I don't mean to interrupt, but just for the sake of variety, might we actually hear from the witness?
Raoul Silva: You know what it does to you, hydrogen cyanide?
[prises out his upper jaw to show M]
Raoul Silva: Think on your sins.
James Bond: Ronson didn't make it, did he?
Gareth Mallory: I only have one question. Why not - stay dead? You have the perfect way out. Go and live, quietly somewhere. Not many field agents get to leave this cleanly.
James Bond: Do you get out in the field much?
Gareth Mallory: You don't need to be an operative to see the obvious. It's a young man's game.
Kincade: [to Bond] You're a tad late. They've sold the place when they thought you were dead. It seems they were wrong.
Kincade: [to Bond] What did you say you did for a living?
Q: Why are the doors opening?
James Bond: [Speaking on a blue tooth device] Ronson's down. He needs a medical evac.
M: Where is it? Is it there?
James Bond: Hard drives gone.
M: You sure?
James Bond: It's gone. Give me a minute.
M: They must have it! Get after them!
James Bond: I'm stabilizing Ronson.
M: We don't have the time!
James Bond: I have to stop the bleeding!
M: Leave him!
James Bond: [Looking round Skyfall one last time] I always did hate this house.
M: [Writing Bond's obituary] What do you say about a man like that?
James Bond: A storm's coming.
James Bond: [fighting Patrice] Who's got the list? Tell me! Who are you working for?
[Patrice slips from Bond's hand and plummets to his death]
James Bond: [gives suitcase of money to Eve] Bet it all on red.
Gareth Mallory: Good luck, 007. Don't cock it up.
James Bond: You're scared.
Sévérine: Thank you for the drink - Mr. Bond.
James Bond: You put on a good show. But, ever since we sat down you haven't stopped looking at your body guards. The three of them is a bit excessive. They're controlling you. They're not protecting you. Tattoo on your wrist is Macau sex trade. You belong to one of the houses. What were you 12? 13? I'm guessing he was your way out. Perhaps you thought you were in love. But, that was a long time ago.
Sévérine: You know nothing about it.
James Bond: I know when a woman is afraid and pretending not to be.
Raoul Silva: [laughs] Chasing spies - oh, it's so old fashioned.
Raoul Silva: There is nothing superfluous in my life. When a thing is redundant, it is - poof - eliminated
Raoul Silva: [to Bond] Fifty year old Macallan. A particular favorite of yours, I understand. So, what's the toast? To the women we love?
M: 007, what took you so long?
CNN News Anchor: No one has yet claimed responsibility for what sources are calling a possible cyber terrorists assault on the British Secret Service.
James Bond: Hire me or fire me. It's entirely up to you.
Tanner: We've analyzed the shrapnel fragments. Lucky it wasn't a direct hit - it would have cut you in half. It's depleted uranium shell, military grade. Hard to get. Extremely expensive and only used by a select few. Recognize anyone?
James Bond: [Points to a photograph] Him.
Tanner: Okay. His name's Patrice. He's a ghost. No known residency or country of origin.
Eve: [to Bond] Keep still. This is the tricky part. Now, that's better.
Sévérine: So, Mr. Bond, shall we discuss your next performance over that drink?
Raoul Silva: She sent you after me, knowing you're not ready, knowing you would likely die. Mommy was very bad.
Q: The Walther PPK/S nine-millimeter short. It's been coded to your palmprint so only you can fire it. Less of a random killing machine, more of a personal statement.
Raoul Silva: The two survivors. This is what she made us.
Gareth Mallory: Three months ago, you lost the drive containing the identity of every agent embedded in terrorist organizations across the globe.