Dick Tracy: No grief for Lips?
Breathless Mahoney: I’m wearing black underwear.
Dick Tracy: You know, it’s legal for me to take you down to the station and sweat it out of you under the light.
Breathless Mahoney: I sweat a lot better in the dark.

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Breathless Mahoney: Aren’t you gonna frisk me?

Dick Tracy: I’m on duty.
Breathless Mahoney: What’s your day off?
Dick Tracy: Sunday.
Breathless Mahoney: It’s a big world…must be Sunday somewhere.

Big Boy Caprice: All right, that’s enough. I want this no-face character dead and I want Tracy dead. What’s the matter, you bums forgotten how to kill people? Have you no sense of pride in what you do? No sense of duty, no sense of destiny? I’m looking for generals; what have I got? Foot soldiers! I want Dick Tracy dead!

Big Boy Caprice: Wait a minute! Wait. Wait. I’m having a thought. Oh yes. Oh yes. I’m going to have a thought. It’s coming. It’s coming. …It’s gone.

Big Boy Caprice: Around me, if a woman don’t wear mink, she don’t wear nothin’.
Breathless Mahoney: Well, I look good both ways.