Marcella: You can take care of business and stop by Grosse Pointe for your reunion...
Marty: Look, Sgt. Pepper, I really need you to shut up about that.
Marcella: Sir, it's out of my hands. The gods want you to go back home and they want to delete someone while you're there. 

Marty: Why are you so interested in me going to my high school reunion?
Marcella: I just find it amusing that you came from somewhere. 

Marcella: You know, when you started getting invited to your ten year high school reunion, time is catching up.
Martin: Are you talking about a sense of my own mortality or a fear of death?
Marcella: Well, I never really thought about it quite like that.
Martin: Did you go to yours?
Marcella: Yes, I did. It was just as if everyone had swelled. 

[Talking to his psychiatrist about going to his high school reunion]
Martin: They all have husbands and wives and children and houses and dogs, and, you know, they've all made themselves a part of something and they can talk about what they do. What am I gonna say? "I killed the president of Paraguay with a fork. How've you been?" 

Martin: This your Beamer?
Paul: Yeah.
Martin: In Detroit? That's sacrilege!

Martin: I'm a professional killer.
Paul: Do you have to do postgraduate work for that? 

Martin: Debi's house.
Paul: Kinda crept up on you, didn't it?
Martin: No, you drove us here.
Paul: [pause] Yep. 

Mr. Grocer: After we do your job, we're gonna do another job.
Martin: Tell me about it.
Mr. Grocer: Like I'm gonna put a bullet hole in your fuckin' forehead, and I'm gonna fuck the brain hole!

Martin: If I show up at your door, chances are you did something to bring me there. 

Martin: It's not me. 

Mr. Newberry: What have you been doing with your life?
Martin: Uh... professional killer.
Mr. Newberry: Oh! Good for you, it's a... growth industry. 

Martin: You don't know my cat. It's very demanding.
Debi: "It"? You don't know if it's a boy or a girl?
Martin: I respect its privacy. 
 

Martin: [Leaving a message on Dr. Oatman's machine] Dr. Oatman, please pick up, pick up! It's Martin Blank! I, I'm standing where my, uh, living room was and it's not here because my house is gone and it's an Ultimart! You can never go home again, Oatman... but I guess you can shop there. 

Martin: Oatman? Don't hang up. Listen, I didn't kill anyone - except some guy tried to kill me, so if I see that guy again, I'm definitely gonna kill him, but I'm not going to kill anybody else. I'm on my way to the reunion now with Debi, but I'm just a little nervous, and I'd like to do a phoner.
Dr. Oatman: O.K., repeat after me. "I am at home with the me. I am rooted in the me who is on this adventure."
Martin: I am at home with the me, I am rooted in the me who is on this adventure.
Dr. Oatman: Good. Now take a deep breath, and realize that this is me breathing.
Martin: Wait, I'm confused. Do you want me to say it or do you want me to realize it?
Dr. Oatman: What?
Martin: About the breathing.
Dr. Oatman: Say it.
Martin: This is me breathing.
Dr. Oatman: Good, now keep doing that for about twenty minutes.
Martin: Listen, I got to go.
Dr. Oatman: O.K. Keep it up. Don't kill anybody.
Martin: Right!
[Hangs up] 

[Practicing in a mirror before his high school reunion]
Martin: Hi. I'm, uh, I'm a pet psychiatrist. I sell couch insurance. Mm-hmm, and I - and I test-market positive thinking. I lead a weekend men's group, we specialize in ritual killings. Yeah, you look great! God, yeah! Hi, how are you? Hi, how are you? Hi, I'm Martin Blank, you remember me? I'm not married, I don't have any kids, and I'd blow your head off if someone paid me enough. 

Mary Blank: You're a handsome devil. What's your name? 

Dr. Oatman: You didn't tell me what you did for a living for *four* sessions. *Then* you told me. And I said, "I don't want to work with you any more." And yet, you come back each week at the same time. That's a difficulty for me. On top of that, if you've committed a crime or you're thinking about committing a crime, I have to tell the authorities.
Martin: I know the law, okay? But I don't want to be withholding; I'm very serious about this process.
[pause]
Martin: And I know where you live.
Dr. Oatman: Oh, now see? That wasn't a nice thing to say; that wasn't designed to make me feel good. That's a... kind of a... not too subtle intimidation, and I, uh, get filled with anxiety when you talk about something like that.

Dr. Oatman: Martin, I'm emotionally involved with you.
Martin: How are you emotionally involved with me?
Dr. Oatman: I'm afraid of you.
Martin: You're afraid of me.
Dr. Oatman: And that constitutes an emotional involvement, and it would be unethical for me to work with you under those circumstances. 

[Martin gives Debi a bouquet of flowers]
Debi: I'll go put these in some rubbing alcohol. 

Debi: You're a psychopath.
Martin: No, no. Psychopaths kill for no reason. I kill for *money*. It's a *job*. That didn't come out right. 

[After Martin tells Debi he kills people for a living]
Debi: You don't get it! You don't get to have me!
Martin: You're overreacting! 

Martin: You must've done some *naughty* shit there, Bart.
[flips dossier over to him]
Martin: There's a contract out on your life. Believe me. I was hired to kill you, but I'm not going to do it. It's either because I'm in love with your daughter or because I have a newfound respect for life.
Mr. Grocer: [following in van] That punk is either in love with that guy's daughter or he has a newfound respect for life.
Mr. Newberry: [after reading contract/dossier] My whole life!
Martin: Hopefully not. 

Debi: Some people say forgive and forget. Nah, I don't know. I say forget about forgiving and just accept. And... get the hell out of town. 

[source: imdb.com ]
 
 

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