Facts - behind them lies the whole fabric of deductive truth.

There is no me. I do not exist. There used to be a me but I had it surgically removed.

If I can't really find a way to live with myself, I can't expect anyone else to live with me.

Clouseau: Does yer dewg bite? Inn Keeper: No Clouseau: Nice Doggy (bends down to pet a dachshund - it snarls and bites him) I thought you said yer dewg did not bite! Inn Keeper: Zat . . . iz not my dog!

You'll catch your death of cold. Clouseau: Yes, yes I probably will but . . . its all part of life's rich pageantry, you kneau.

François: Do you know what kind of a bomb it was? Clouseau: Yes, the exploding kind.

I writhe when I see myself on the screen. I'm such a dreadfully clumsy hulking image. I say to myself, Why doesn't he get off? Why doesn't he get off? I mean, I look like such an idiot. Some fat awkward thing dredged up from some third-rate drama company. I must stop thinking about it, otherwise I shan't be able to go on working.

I am here to fix the problem with yer pheaun.

Relax, I'll get it. (said to Kato after Clouseau knocks him unconscious)

Conversation like television set on honeymoon... unnecessary.

Is there anybody hiding there in the dark?

When you have been killed as many times as I have, you get used to it.

If you ask me to play myself, I will not know what to do. I do not know who or what I am.

It won't be easy, that is why I have always failed where others have succeeded.