Léon: The Professional

Stansfield: I like these calm little moments before the storm. It reminds me of Beethoven. Can you hear it? It's like when you put your head to the grass and you can hear the growin' and you can hear the insects. Do you like Beethoven? Malky: I couldn't really say. Stansfield: You don't like Beethoven. You don't know what you're missing. Overtures like that get my... juices flowing. So powerful. But after his openings, to be honest, he does tend to get a little fucking boring. That's why I stopped! [laughs and sighs] Toss the apartment.

Léon: The Professional, CC BY-SA 4.0

Mathilda: [on telephone] Hello? Caller: This is Margueritte McAllister, headmistress of the Spencer School for Girls in Wildwood, New Jersey. Is Mr. or Mrs. Lando home? Mathilda: [faking deeper voice] Yes, this is she. Caller: Mrs. Lando, when your husband enrolled Mathilda at Spencer, he told us she had "problems". Well, as you know, we pride ourselves on turning troubled girls into healthy, productive young women. But if they are not here, there is very little we can do. Now, Mathilda left school without permission nearly two weeks ago. I know your husband paid tuition in advance for a year, but if you will refer to page twenty of the rules and regulations manual we sent you, you will see that unless there is a valid excuse for prolonged absence, your tuition will be forfeit. Mathilda: She's dead. [She hangs up.]

Léon: The Professional, CC BY-SA 4.0

Léon: I'm sorry about your father. Mathilda: If somebody didn't do it, one day or another I would've probably done it myself. Léon: Your mother, she — Mathilda: She's not my mother! And my sister — she wanted to lose some weight anyway. Bet she never looked better. She's not even my real sister. Just a half-sister, and not a good half at that. Léon: If you couldn't stand them, why are you crying? Mathilda: Because they killed my brother! What the hell did he do? Four years old... he never used to cry. He just used to sit next to me and cuddle. I was more of a mother to him than that goddamn pig ever was!

Léon: The Professional, CC BY-SA 4.0

Léon: Revenge is not a good thing, it's better to forget. Mathilda: Forget? After I've seen the outline of my brother's body on the floor, you expect me to forget? I wanna kill those sons of bitches, and blow their fucking heads off!

Léon: The Professional, CC BY-SA 4.0

Mathilda: Leon, what exactly do you do for a living? Léon: Cleaner. Mathilda: You mean you're a hit man? Mathilda: Cool. Mathilda: Do you "clean" anyone? Léon: No women, no kids. That's the rules. Mathilda: How much would it cost to hire someone to get those dirtbags who killed my brother? Léon: Five grand a head. Mathilda: Wow. How about this: I work for you, and in exchange, you teach me how to clean. Hmmm? What do you think? I'll clean your place, I'll do the shopping, I'll even wash your clothes. Is it a deal? Léon: No, it's not a deal. Mathilda: What do you want me to do? I've got no place to go. Léon: You've had a rough day today. Go to sleep now. We'll see in the morning.

Léon: The Professional, CC BY-SA 4.0

Léon: You sleep well? [Mathilda nods.] Good. After breakfast you gotta take off. Mathilda: Where to? Léon: Not my problem. Mathilda: [setting note in front of Léon]: Read it. Léon: Uh — [stares blankly at note.] Mathilda: You don't know how to read. Léon: I'm learning, but I've had a lot of work lately, so... I'm a little behind. What's it say? Mathilda: I've decided what I want to do with my life. I wanna be a cleaner. Léon: You wanna be a cleaner? [sets a pistol on table] Here, take it. It's a goodbye gift. Go clean — but not with me! I work alone, understand? Alone! Mathilda: Bonnie and Clyde didn't work alone! Thelma and Louise didn't work alone! And they were the best.

Léon: The Professional, CC BY-SA 4.0