Nancy Allen: Liz Blake

Dressed to Kill

Liz Blake

Liz Blake: [on the phone] Anything special? Thank God, straight fucks are still in style.

[last lines]
Peter Miller: Look, Liz, I've got to get home and get to work.
Liz Blake: Gee, I'm gonna miss having you on my tail. You made me feel kind of safe.
Peter Miller: Want to come home with me? I'd love the company.
Liz Blake: Wouldn't Mike mind?
Peter Miller: Mike's out of town on a business trip. We've got plenty of room.
Liz Blake: Great. I could sure use the vacation.
Peter Miller: Good, good. I'll get the check.

Liz Blake: How the hell am I supposed to know where he is?
Detective Marino: Well, if you can't find him, I sure can't. And anyway, you got a lot better motivation than I do: your ass.

Detective Marino: What's the matter, huh? I'm a little crude for you, huh?
Liz Blake: That's right.
Detective Marino: Look, Miss Blake, let's cut this shit. Huh? I got all the dope on you right here. Does this look familiar? Let me see. March 5th. Charge: disorderly conduct, solicitation for the purpose of prostitution. Arresting Officer: Duram. Apprehended at the Park Avenue Hotel. Oh, classy arrest.
Liz Blake: Thank you.
Detective Marino: Let's face it, you're a whore. Oh, a Park Avenue whore, but you're still a whore. *Now*, who were you fucking?
Liz Blake: Fuck you.
Detective Marino: No, fuck you!

Liz Blake: Why would I want to kill her?
Detective Marino: You were there with the razor. You tell me.
Liz Blake: I told you. There was a blonde woman in the elevator.
Detective Marino: Yeah, except nobody else saw this blonde woman enter or leave the building. You didn't notice if she had wings, did you?

Liz Blake: Your friend's covering for you tonight, right? Well, I'm your friend, too, and I'll be the best cover you ever had.

Liz Blake: All right, look, let me talk to Marino. If he cops out, then I'll help you.

Liz Blake: How do you like my painting?
Peter Miller: It's - very nice.
Liz Blake: I bought it a couple of years ago for $500. It's really a great investment. I mean, ten years from now, it could be worth - a million dollars. More if the artist dies, of course.

Liz Blake: Who do you think you are, Superman? You're just a kid, for God's sake!
Peter Miller: Yeah, I'm the kid that saved your life.

Dr. Robert Elliott: Why don't you just talk about it? I'm sure it's not as bad as you think.
Liz Blake: It's very bad. And you're talking to an expert on bad.
Dr. Robert Elliott: Oh, really? Now what makes you such an expert?
Liz Blake: Because I'm a hooker. And I have done most of the bad things you just read about.
Dr. Robert Elliott: Do you like doing these things?
Liz Blake: Sometimes.
Dr. Robert Elliott: What do you like about it?
Liz Blake: I like to turn men on. I must do a pretty good job because they pay me a lot.

Liz Blake: He closes the door, locks it, and takes out a razor. He says he's not going to hurt me. Then he tells me what he's going to do to me and how much I'm going to like it. All the time he's talking, I can see the bulge in his pants. He orders me to strip. I do it, keeping one eye on the razor. He drops his pants, forces me down, on my stomach. He spreads my legs, kneels down behind me and rests the cold blade.