Sophie: Nate, I have to say, of all the deceitful on principle, corruptible things I have done in my life, nothing is as bad as...
Nate: Politics?
Sophie: I can't even say it.

Hardison: We gotta get on that freight car.
Parker: I have an idea.
Sophie: Am I going to hate it?
Parker: No, but he is.

Sophie: You have millions of dollars of loot on that tree.
Parker: Yeah, happy birthday Jesus.

You're on Nate; let's see you get a man to confess to a crime he didn't commit.

Sophie: Do you watch hockey fights, alone, at night, in your room?
Eliot: Yeah, you never know when you have to fight a guy on ice.

I love Claridge's auction house. Even the air feels more expensive.

You really can't tell? Americans! All accents sound the same. Please go on, I sound like one of the dwarves in Lord of the Rings, but continue.

Sophie: That's like stealing my mail.
Parker: Why, is stealing mail a crime?
Sophie: (glares)
Parker: Oops.

Sophie: Oh My God! Wait, what's that voice?
Eliot: It's your accent.
Sophie: That's what I sound like to you?

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