Spy Game

— Jesus Christ! You don't trade these people like baseball cards! It's not a fucking game!
— Yes, it is. That's exactly what it is. And it's no kid's game, either, but a whole other game. And it's serious, and it's dangerous, and it's not one you want to lose.

— When did Noah build the Ark, Gladys?
— ?
— Before the rain. Before the rain.

— You want flowers at 5:00 a. m.?
— Flowers would be nice, but I'll settle for breakfast.

— Happy birthday, Nathan. You know, Langley has seven different birth dates for you?
— They're all wrong.
— Believe me, it wasn't easy. KGB, Mossad, also wrong. Fortunately, I was well-trained.

— I thought spies drank martinis.
— Scotch. Never less than 12 years old.
— Is that right? Agency rules?
— My rules.

Fuck your rules, Nathan.

Nathan Muir: — What about the press? Why not leak it and throw the spotlight on China, and buy us some time?
Charles Harker: — We need the press on this like we need a third tit.
Nathan Muir: — You using the other two?