He's...he's like family.


Barber (to Riggs): What kind of look was you going for?
Murtaugh: Mid-80s Selleck.
Barber: I was thinking mid-70s porn.

Riggs: This is not easy for one man to say to another, but your head is wonderfully round. Bald is beautiful.
Murtaugh: Sometimes at sunset, when it's slightly dark out, your mustache looks almost not ridiculous.

Murtaugh: He's crazier than a sack of cats.
Riggs: Did you say I was crazier than a sack of cats?
Murtaugh: Funky, feral, and confused. That's you.

Avery: You know, as much as I enjoy you both sitting there with your mouths shut, you two need to bury the hatchet. And, I can't believe I'm saying this: get back to being your usual pain in the ass selves.

Dad, look I know I messed up, but I want you and mom to know that's not the man I'm trying to be.


Murtaugh: Two black teenagers, one of them my son, pulled over by a uni I don't know. Do you have any idea how bad that could've gone? No. Because, you have nothing to love in this world except yourself.
Riggs: Nice. And you wonder why your kids won't talk to you.

RJ: It's like cracking a case.
Riggs: What's like cracking a case?
RJ: Figuring out what a girl wants to hear so they let you, you know, get with them.

Rog, you remember I'm from Texas, right? Sports is more of a religion down there.


Look, every person on a crew has a role. I'm guessing yours is breaking things, moving heavy objects, maybe grunting from time to time.


Have you seen an enormous black guy with arms the size of my thighs?


Whoa. Easy kids. We're all cops here. Not seals or hobos.