Top 30 Quotes From Catch Me If You Can

Frank: Dr. Harris, do you concur?
Doctor: Yes?
Frank: Do you concur?
Doctor: [confused] Concur with what, sir?

Frank Abagnale Sr.: ...I am your father.
Frank: Then ask me to stop. Then ask me to stop.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: You can't stop.

Frank Abagnale Sr.: You know why the Yankees always win, Frank?
Frank: 'Cause they have Mickey Mantle?
Frank Abagnale Sr.: No, it's 'cause the other teams can't stop staring at those damn pinstripes.

[LAST: Frank and Carl remain close friends to this day.

Doctor: I blew it didn't I? Why didn't I concur?

Carl: [Frank is making one last attempt to run by impersonating a pilot once again. Carl catches up with him at Dulles Airport] How'd you do it, Frank? How'd you pass the bar in Louisiana?
Frank: [Frank continues to walk. Carl walks several paces behind] What are you doing here?
Carl: Listen...
Frank: I'm sorry I put you through all this.
Carl: You go back to Europe, you're gonna die in Perpignan Prison. You try to run here in the States, we'll send you back to Atlanta for 50 years.
Frank: I know that.
Carl: I spent four years trying to arrange your release. Had to convince my bosses at the FBI and the Attorney General of the United States you wouldn't run.
Frank: Why'd you do it?
Carl: You're just a kid.
Frank: I'm not your kid. You said you were going to Chicago.
Carl: My daughter can't see me this weekend. She's going skiing.
Frank: You said she was four years old. You're lying.
Carl: She was four when I left. Now she's 15. My wife's been remarried for 11 years. I see Grace every now and again.
Frank: I don't understand.
Carl: Sure you do. Sometimes, it's easier living the lie.
[Frank stops, Carl catches up]
Carl: I'm going to let you fly tonight, Frank. I'm not even going to try to stop you. That's because I know you'll be back on Monday.
Frank: Yeah? How do you know I'll come back?
Carl: Frank, look. Nobody's chasing you.

Frank: [In a letter] Dear Dad, you always told me that an honest man has nothing to fear, so I'm trying my best not to be afraid.

Frank Abagnale Sr.: Where's your mother?
Frank: I don't know. She said something about going to look for a job.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: What's she gonna be, a shoe salesman at a centipede farm?

[repeated line]
Carl: How'd you do it, Frank? How did you cheat on the bar exam in Louisiana?

Carl: Our unknown subject is a paperhanger who started working on the East Coast. In the last few weeks this unsub has developed a new form of check fraud which I'm calling "the float". What he's doing is opening checking accounts at various banks then chaning the MICR ink routing numbers at the bottom of those checks. Next slide, please. This is a map of the 12 banks of the U.S. Federal Reserve. Slide. MICR scanners at every bank read these numbers at the bottom of the check - slide - and they ship that check off to its corresponding branch.
Special: Carl, for those of us who are unfamiliar with bank fraud you mind telling us what the hell you're talking about?
Carl: The East Coast branches are numbered zero-one to zero-six. The central branch is zero-seven, zero-eight so on, so forth.
Special: You mean the numbers at the bottom of a check actually mean something?
Carl: All of this was in the report I filed two days ago. If you change a zero-two to a one-two that means a check, which was cashed in New York Federal Branch but it is rerouted all the way to San Francisco Federal Branch. The bank doesn't even know the check has bounced for two weeks, which means our unsub can stay in one place, paper the same city over and over again, while his checks circle the country.

Candy: We'll be travelling at 6000 miles per hour at an altitude of 300 feet

[last lines]
Carl: There's impressions on every line... looks like the original amount was for $60...
Frank: [walks up and takes magnifier] Mind if I take a look?
Carl: [looks up] Cashed in Flagstaff a week ago. Cost the bank $16,000.
Frank: It's a real check.
Carl: Yeah. Yeah, it's been washed. The only thing original is the signature.
Frank: But it's perfect, Carl. I mean, this isn't hydrochloride or bleach.
Carl: No. Something new. Maybe a nail polish remover where the acetone removes the ink that's not been printed?
[long pause]
Carl: How did you do it, Frank? How did you cheat on the bar exam in Louisiana?
Frank: I didn't cheat. I studied for two weeks and I passed.
Carl: Is that the truth, Frank? Is that the truth?
Frank: I'll bet this guy steals checks out of mailboxes. He washes off their names and he puts on his own.
Carl: You're saying he's a local?
Frank: Well, if it were me, you know, I'd call the bank first... check out the balance...
Carl: Make sure there's enough money in there to make it worth your while...
Frank: You know, Carl, I think this guy's pretty smart.
[Carl laughs]
Frank: Now, all we have to do is catch him.

Paula: Just tell me how much he owes and I'll pay you back.
Carl: So far, it's about 1.3 million dollars.

Kid: More coffee, sir?
[notices paperwork]
Kid: Are you a collector?
Carl: Of what?
Kid: Captives of the Cosmic Ray, The Big Freeze, Land of the Golden Giants. I've got em all.
Carl: What are you talking about?
Kid: Barry Allen. The Flash.
[walks away]
Carl: Wait, kid, kid, kid. You mean like the comic book?
Kid: Yeah, the comic book. When he's not The Flash. That's his name, Barry Allen.
Carl: Thank you.
[cut to Carl using a payphone]
Carl: Now get this: he reads comic books. Comic books! Barry Allen is The Flash!
Tom: Carl, slow down, slow down. I don't know what the hell you're talking about.
Carl: He's a kid. Our unsub is a kid. That's why we couldn't match his prints. That's why he doesn't have a record. Now, I want you to contact the NYPD for every all-points juvenile runaways in New York City. And don't forget the airports. He's been kiting checks all over the country.
Tom: But why New York?
Carl: The Yankees! He said something about the Yankees!

Frank: Christ! Terry! This is Italian knit.

Frank Abagnale Sr.: She's so stubborn, your mother. Don't worry, I won't let her go without a fight. I've been fighting for her since the day we met.
Frank: Dad, out of all those men - you were the one who took her home, remember that.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: Two-hundred men sitting in that tiny social hall watching her dance. What was the name of that town?
Frank: Montrichard, Dad.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: I didn't speak a word of French, six weeks later she was my wife.

Earl: [while Carl is setting the trap for Frank at the Miami airport] Why won't he just take a taxi to New York or Atlanta?
Carl: Because *I'm* not in New York. *I'm* not in Atlanta.

Frank: The truth is I'm not a doctor or a lawyer. I'm not an airline pilot. I'm nothing really. I'm just a kid in love with your daughter.

[LAST: For his services, these companies pay Frank Abagnale Jr. millions of dollars a year.

[Carl is looking around Frank Abagnale Sr.'s apartment, when he comes through the door]
Frank Abagnale Sr.: [annoyed] Make yourself at home!
Carl: Frank Abagnale Sr.?
Frank Abagnale Sr.: You're not a cop!
Carl: [flashes credentials] Special Agent Hanratty, FBI.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: [now calmer] You're not a cop! My landlord told me you were not a cop. Well, if you're going to arrest me, I'd like to put on a different suit if that's okay with you.
Carl: No, no. I'm not here to arrest you. I'm looking for your son. He's in trouble. Do you know where he is?
Frank Abagnale Sr.: If I tell you where he is, will you promise not to tell his mother?
Carl: Sure.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: Frank made a fake I.D. and enlisted in the Marine Corps. He's over in Vietnam right now. That kid is halfway around the world, crawling through the damn jungle, fighting the Communists so... please, don't come to my home and call my boy a criminal, because that kid has more guts...
Carl: I never said he was a criminal, Mr. Abagnale. I said he was in trouble. If you'd like to give me a call and talk, here's my number.
[Carl grabs a pen from a table filled with letters and writes down his information. As he peers down, he sees a letter from Frank giving his location as Riverbend Apartments, Atlanta, Georgia]
Frank Abagnale Sr.: You're not a father, are you?
Carl: [looks back up] Pardon me?
Frank Abagnale Sr.: If you were a father, you'd know. I would never give up my son. I would never give up my son.
Carl: Yes, sir. I understand.

Carl: But, sir, we're gonna let him get away.
Assistant: No, Carl, you let him get away.

Frank: [when Carl catches up to him in the print shop in Montrichard] Carl? Carl! Merry Christmas! How is it we're always talking on Christmas, Carl? Every Christmas, I'm talking to you!
[laughs]
Carl: Put your shirt on, Frank. You're under arrest.

Sentencing: taking into account the gravity of these crimes, your history of bold and elusive behavior, and your complete lack of respect for the laws of the United States. I have no choice but to ignore your request to be treated as a minor, and sentence you to twelve years in Atlanta's maximum security prison, and recommend strongly that you be kept in isolation for the entirety of that sentence.

Frank Abagnale Sr.: Two little mice fell in a bucket of cream. The first mouse quickly gave up and drowned. The second mouse, wouldn't quit. He struggled so hard that eventually he churned that cream into butter and crawled out. Gentlemen, as of this moment, I am that second mouse.

Tom: He doesn't have a passport.
Carl: For the last six months, he's gone to Harvard and Berkeley. I'm betting he can get a passport.

Roger: A doctor, a lawyer, a Lutheran. So what are you, Frank? 'Cause I think you're about to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage and I have a right to know.
Frank: Know what, sir?
Roger: The truth. Tell me the truth, Frank. What are you doing here? What is a man like you doing with Brenda? If you want my blessing, if you want my daughter, I'd like to hear it from you now.
Frank: The truth is, sir, that... The truth is that... I'm not a doctor, I'm not a lawyer, I'm not an airline pilot. I'm... I'm nothing, really. I'm-I'm-I'm just a kid who's in love with your daughter.
Roger: [beat] No.
[sits down next to him, his demeanor still stern]
Roger: You know what you are?
[brightens]
Roger: You're a romantic. Men like us are nothing without the women we love. I must confess, I'm guilty of the same foolish whimsy. I proposed to Carol after five dates with two nickels in my pockets and holes in my shoes because I knew she was the one.
[stands]
Roger: So, go ahead, Frank. Don't be afraid. Ask the question you came here to ask me.
Frank: Sir, uh, uh... w-what would I have to do to take the bar here in New Orleans?
[Roger chuckles a bit]
Roger: No, the -- the other question.
[smiles, looks expectant]

[LAST: Frank has also designed many of the secure checks that banks and fortune 500 companies use every day.

Frank Abagnale Sr.: Do you know what would happen if the IRS found out I was driving around in a new coupe? I took the train here, Frank. I'm taking the train home.

Roger: Frank, would you like to say grace?
[Long pause]
Roger: Unless you're not comfortable.
Frank: Absolutely. Two little mice fell into a bucket of cream. The first mouse quickly gave up and drowned, but the second mouse, he struggled so hard that he eventually churned that cream into butter and he walked out. Amen.
[All: Amen]
Carol: Oh, that was beautiful. The mouse, he churned that cream into butter.

Frank: Brenda, I don't want to lie to you anymore. All right? I'm not a doctor. I never went to medical school. I'm not a lawyer, or a Harvard graduate, or a Lutheran. Brenda, I ran away from home a year and a half ago when I was 16.
Brenda: Frank? Frank? You're not a Lutheran?