monsieur Burns:
"Anybody ever tell you you look dead, man?"
monsieur Burns:
"First there was darkness. Then came the strangers."
monsieur Burns:
“Can you smell his sweat? That peculiar goatish odor is trans-3-methyl-2 hexenoic acid. Remember it, it's the smell of schizophrenia.”
monsieur Burns:
“I'm not sure you get wiser as you get older, Starling, but you do learn to dodge a certain amount of hell.”
monsieur Burns:
"He’s a thinking man’s cop with a dark past and an obsessive drive to hunt down monsters who prey on the innocent."
monsieur Burns:
"This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off."
monsieur Burns:
“He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart.”
monsieur Burns:
“Over this odd world, this half the world that's dark now, I have to hunt a thing that lives on tears.”
monsieur Burns:
"Now it looks like the birthplace of Bela Lugosi."
monsieur Burns:
"Chez nous, et je suppose aussi ailleurs, il y a deux méthodes de dissimulation : se taire ou parler beaucoup."
monsieur Burns:
" Always give people space when they get off an elevator."
monsieur Burns:
“Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life, and you know not whether for good or ill”
monsieur Burns:
“It is murder, Watson—refined, cold-blooded, deliberate murder.”
monsieur Burns:
"A spectral hound which leaves material footmarks and fills the air with its howling is surely not to be thought of. Stapleton may fall in with such a superstition, and Mortimer also."
monsieur Burns:
"Your mother's in here, Karras. Would you like to leave a message? I'll see that she gets it."
monsieur Burns:
"Most psychology is puerile”
monsieur Burns:
"It's a word. Killing and arranging the people to imitate it.”
monsieur Burns:
"You came here to look at me, to get the old scent back again, didn't you?"
monsieur Burns:
"Because there aren't any stairs."
monsieur Burns:
"Do you feel privileged?"
monsieur Burns:
" Why don't we make him a present of that window? He practically lives there."
monsieur Burns:
"It is in your nature to do one thing correctly: Tremble."
monsieur Burns:
"According to you, I'm a pervert — an animal, you said. You know who I am now?"
monsieur Burns:
“when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life”