المهمة: المستحيلة 2

This is not mission difficult, Mr. Hunt, it's mission impossible. Difficult should be a walk in the park for you.

You know, that was the hardest part about having to portray you…grinning like an idiot every fifteen minutes.

In just a few hours you can be assured of going down in history as the Typhoid Mary of Oz. G'day.

Nyah Nordolf-Hall: [having injected herself with the virus] You're not gonna shoot me, Sean! Not this bitch. 'Cause she's worth thirty seven…million pounds!

If you look at Hunt's operational history, and I have, he invariably favors misdirection over confrontation.

This is what's known as getting your gun off!

Nyah Nordolf-Hall: I don't have a conscience. I'm a bloody thief.

We've got 19 hours and 58 minutes. I'll get Bellerophon into your system by then. Just stay alive. I'm not going to lose you!

Luther Stickell: [After getting shot at] That punk put a hole in my Versace!

STOP! PUT A SOCK IN IT! Hit that bloody gun and you'll spread the virus all over the place!

We just rolled up a snowball and tossed it into hell. Now lets see what chance it has.

Well, mate, maybe this is one of those times we shouldn't follow orders.

[Response to Swanbeck's remark] If I let you know where I'm going, I won't be on holiday.

Luther Stickell: [After getting shot at] Oh, I'm mad now!