Whit Morrison: How did you get in here?
Bat: You ought to send your boys to my club to learn the manly art of self-defense.
Bat: You know, I've never struck an honest-to-goodness police commissioner before - but you're not honest.
Isabel Fowler: Well, I didn't expect to see you again.
Bat: Your perfume reminded me to drop in.
Isabel Fowler: You know, you don't look like the kind of man that would pass up opportunity.
Bat: I'm usually listening when it knocks. Sometimes I knock myself.
Bat: I read someplace that a great man keeps one eye on the stars and the other at the holes in the road.
Monroe Fowler: Well, I guess I'll go out and start filling in some of those holes.
Bat: Mr. Mayor, if you'd appoint me police commissioner for a minute or two, I'll be very happy to herd your prisoners to jail - or shall we call them "holes in the road?"
Monroe Fowler: Whatever you prefer, Mr. Commissioner.