Wesley Snipes: Blade

Blade: Trinity

Blade

Dr. Edgar Vance: Do you know what day it is?
[Blade declines to answer]
Dr. Edgar Vance: How 'bout the president? You know who that is. Who's in the White House, right now?
Blade: An asshole.

Hannibal King: We call ourselves the Nightstalkers.
Blade: Hmm. Sounds like rejects from a Saturday morning cartoon.
Hannibal King: Well, we were gonna go with the Care Bears, but, uh, that was taken.

Dex: Consider us your reinforcements.
Blade: What? You amateurs are supposed to be helping me? You? Look at you. You're kids. You're not ready to roll with this. I mean, look at the way you're dressed. What, that's supposed to be tactical?
[about Hannibal's name tag]
Blade: What is this? What is that? "Fuck you." It's a joke, huh? What the fuck is wrong with y'all? You think this is a joke? You think this is a fucking sit-com?
Hannibal King: Okay, first off, that's just rude. Second, I'm pretty sure we saved your ass back there.

Zoe: [watching Blade inhaling his serum] Why do you do that?
Blade: Because there's something bad inside of me. This keeps it from getting out.
Zoe: Why can't you just be nice?
Blade: Because the world isn't nice.

Dracula: [looks from a building] Look at them down there, scurrying around like insects. They don't know anything about honor or living by the sword. Not like you and I do. Do you think they could ever grasp what it means to be immortal?
Blade: You're not immortal. I musta heard hundreds of you rodents make the same claim. Each one of them has tasted the end of my sword.
Dracula: Perhaps I will too, then. But I think it is more likely the next time we meet, you fall before *mine*.

Ray Cumberland: Say, how many people have you killed, Blade? Thirty? Forty? Fifty?
Blade: One thousand, one hundred and eighty two. But they were all familiars.

Blade: [on Dracula] So the movies are true.
Hannibal King: Ha! The movies are just a comforting fairy-tale compared to the real deal. Bram Stoker, he wrote a good yarn. But the events that he described back in 1897, God, that was just a tiny piece of the mosaic.

[showing Blade and Abbie the blood-farming facility]
Chief Martin Vreede: They decided that hunting humans on a piece-meal basis was too inefficient. Why kill your prey when you can keep them alive? Under optimal conditions a donor can generate anywhere from fifty to a hundred pints of blood a year.
Abigail Whistler: But where did you get all these people?
Chief Martin Vreede: The streets. In any given year you've got two to three million homeless people wandering around America. No one cares about them. We're doing the country a service, really.
Blade: [applauds sarcastically] The vampire Final Solution.
Abigail Whistler: Are they aware? Do they feel anything?
Chief Martin Vreede: They're in a chemically-induced coma. They're brain dead, vegetables.
[Blade seizes Vreede by the collar and slams his face into one of the cells]
Blade: Look at this! Is this the future you want? You think there's a place for *you* in their future?
Chief Martin Vreede: We don't have a choice! They're going to win. Can't you see that? He's come back! There's nothing stopping them now.
Blade: [in Vreede's face] There's me.

Abraham Whistler: Congratulations, you're famous. Somebody nailed us. Faces all over the papers, televisions. Media's eating it up.
Blade: Like I care.
Abraham Whistler: Well, you should. Somethin' like this, takin' out a human, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, you're public enemy #1.
Blade: Didn't notice it was a popularity contest.

[after the vampires' attack on the Nightstalkers' hideout]
Blade: Are you all right?
Abigail Whistler: Yeah. I'll be fine.
Blade: Don't let it turn inward.
Abigail Whistler: Ever since I can remember, I've had this - I've had this knife of sadness in my heart. And as long as it's there, you know, I'm-I'm strong, and I'm-I'm untouchable. But the moment that I take it out... I'll just die.

Hannibal King: Let's face it, we are fighting a losing battle here. So we kill a few hundred of them a year, big deal. There are thousands of them out there, maybe tens of thousands. We need a new tactic.
Blade: Like what?
Sommerfield: A biological weapon. For you sighted people, here's a little show-and-tell.

[while Blade is restrained, Vance injects him with a sedative]
Dr. Edgar Vance: You don't have a problem with needles, do you? There! That wasn't so bad, was it?
[he leans closer, and Blade hears him through a haze]
Dr. Edgar Vance: Oh, you're weak. In need of your serum. That must be a bad feeling. I mean, that a mere human like me could have over-powered you?
Blade: [realizes] You're one of them. A familiar.
[Vance shows Blade a glyph tattoo on his wrist]
Dr. Edgar Vance: Going on five years now. It's the endgame, Blade. All their plans are coming to fruition. Why don't you just sit back, and enjoy the show?

Dracula: Ahhhh careful daywalker. I've been told about you. Your weakness for humans.
Blade: Why'd you kill Vance?
Dracula: He outlived his purpose. He died a good death. Quick. Clean.
Blade: I wouldn't know anything about that.
Dracula: You will.
Blade: How are you able to survive in sunlight?
Dracula: Haven't you read Stokers fable? I was the first of the vampires. I am unique.
Blade: So that's why they brought you back.
Dracula: Of course. They believe through me they can become daywalkers.
Dracula: Look at them down there. Scurrying like insects. They don't know anything about honor or living by the sword. Not like you and I do. You think they could ever grasp what it means to be immortal?
Blade: You're not immortal. I must've heard hundreds of you rodents make the same claim. Each one has tasted the end of my sword.
Dracula: Perhaps I will too then, but I think it is more likely next time we meet...... you fall before mine! Catch!