Callan

Callan [ reading his tombstone inscription ]: "David Callan. At rest." That'll be the day.

Callan: What next? Hunter: Oh, holiday I think. Good food, fresh air, a little exercise… Callan: …A little debriefing? Hunter: That too.

Hunter [ on the funeral service ]: Liz cried. Callan: Yeah, well she would, wouldn't she? Hunter: I think your friend Lonely cried, too. Callan: Blimey! You didn't invite him, did you? Hunter: I doubt he's been invited anywhere in his life.

Hunter: We couldn't risk a show trial so we put you in your grave. Callan: Tell me, is there a body in it, sir? Hunter: Yes, of course. Just in case we needed an exhumation order, you know. Callan: Yeah, well the Section never had any trouble in finding bodies, did it? Hunter: No, we've been pretty lucky so far.

Callan [ to Richmond, as the two men are exchanged ]: Not many people know what they are worth.

Richmond [ on the prisoner exchange ]: Don't you want your colleague back? Stafford: We want a little quiet, Mr. Richmond.

Callan [ trying to engage his captors ]: What do we do now, play strip poker? That's a little capitalist joke I thought up.

Callan: We both start with a clean slate. Dr. Karsky: Clean? That is a very odd word you use.

Hunter: Callan used to say I played God. Perhaps he was right. You're going to assist in a resurrection. Cross: I'm not with you, sir. Hunter: Callan didn't die. Cross: What about the funeral, sir? Hunter: We buried someone, I agree, but it wasn't Callan. Stafford: And the death certificate? Hunter: Snell signed it. Heart failure, correct as far as it goes. Anyone's heart fails if you put a bullet in it.

Prison Guard: You'll be back. Callan: Not even to kill you, sweetheart.

Richmond: Will there be more questions? Bishop: No. Richmond: Ah ha! Bishop: Ah ha? Is that a Russian expression?

Richmond: You really are extremely talented. Dr. Snell: Thank you. Richmond: I should very much like to kill you. Dr. Snell: So many people would. It's much easier than answering questions.

Dr. Karsky: Then why fight me? Callan [ uncertainly ]: Because… I must?

Dr. Snell: You always expect me to perform miracles. Hunter: My dear doctor, if you couldn't perform miracles you wouldn't be working for me.

Parson [ euologising Callan ]: His life was sedentary as indeed it had to be. Sedentary and solitary, too. The weak heart, which finally took him away from us, forbade any physical exertion. He worked patiently and uncomplainingly as a clerk in a humble employment. And may I say how good it is to see so many of his friends and colleagues here today. Not rich, often ill, he accepted his lot, living a life of quiet usefulness. A law-abiding citizen who refused to succumb to the temptations of these turbulent times. Not for him the violent passions and so called passions that do so much to mar the image of generation. This was a gentle man, always willing to help others, doing good by stealth. A man of peace, a man who can meet his maker, as our prayer book says, in the sure and certain of hope of resurrection. For gentleness and goodness, though unfashionable, yet still they merit a great and everlasting reward. Lonely: Gawd Blimey! They're burying the wrong geezer!