Higgins: If you're going to drink yourself into a stupor, wouldn't whiskey be more effective?
Magnum: Too hard to keep an even buzz on with whiskey.

Higgins: Lady Ashley, you look positively smashing, especially for a woman your age.

Higgins: The two of you are as nervous as a pair of Devonshire schoolgirls.
T.C.: And you're not?
Higgins: No.
T.C.: Then why have you been sipping tea from an empty cup for the last half-hour?

Higgins: This morning I came to a startling and horrifying realization. Since your arrival at Robin's Nest, you have insidiously eroded away my sense of diligence. Security has fallen completely apart. The grounds are in a terrible state of neglect. This guest house should be condemned.
Magnum: It doesn't look so bad.
Higgins: The estate is completely overrun with your good-for-nothing friends, sleazy clients and unexpected guests.
Magnum: That is not true!
[Carol enters guest house]
Carol: Hi Thomas. The gate was open, so I just came on in.
[Magnum hangs head]

Luther: So much for sweet dreams in paradise. I guess I'm either used to freezing St. Louie winters, or summer nights that steam the starch out of your shorts.

Magnum: [narrating] A few vital statistics that explain why paradise is called paradise: there are three-hundred and twenty-six days of sunshine each year, an annual average temperature of eighty-six degrees, billions and billions of gallons of blue Pacific, and one Orville 'Rick' Wright, who will bet on anything.

Magnum: [narrating] A person is what they throw away.

Magnum: [narrating] After three days of surveillance, I was familiar with the rhythm of the street. At nine in the morning, those about to be sacrificed to the Hawaiian gods of sun, sea, and sand were making their ritualistic trek to the beach. I knew from experience that very few would return with their skin. At noon, the late risers and the serious souvenir hunters were prowling about, snatching up bargain buys on plastic hula skirts and cheap coral beads. At three-fifteen I got my afternoon treat. I called her Olga, for obvious reasons. The cops are pretty good about keeping hookers off the street during the day, but, I guess when you're as big as Olga, you can work any time you want. By sunset the last of the lobsters were returning from the beach, which meant my day was nearly over and all I had to show for it was a sore butt, and a case of heartburn.

Magnum: [narrating] Here in paradise, there are at least three different ways of looking at time; There's the traditional mainland kind of time � people say "let's meet at eight o'clock", and that's more or less what they mean. Then there's Hawaiian time, which is a lot more... flexible � eight o'clock may mean seven... or nine... or not at all... depending on an infinite variety of factors. However, even in paradise, there's also a time-frame which seems to operate on a mysterious circadian rhythm all it's own � bureaucratic time; Roughly, that translates into "stand in line until we're ready for you, and then do it our way, or not at all.

Magnum: [narrating] I get these feelings... I guess a... I call them my "little voice". I know that sounds dumb, but it's like an early warning system, or a conscience. Or maybe, it's just a way of communicating to myself how I really feel about something deep down. I think we all have something like that. I think we communicate those deep down feelings with others that we care about and it's not just by talking about it. This doesn't make any sense, I'm sorry. I guess what I mean is if there's a real connection with somebody you care about ultimately they hear you and that's why I think T.C.'s gonna hear us.

Magnum: [narrating] I've always loved John O'Hara's story of the servant who saw death coming towards him in a Baghdad marketplace. So he fled to Samarra only to learn that it was there that death had an appointment with him. Laura felt I had an appointment in Samarra. I had to find out if she was right.

Magnum: Higgins, we are talking about saving my life.
Higgins: What is that, compared to saving an entire species?
Magnum: Of worms?!
Higgins: I rest my case.

Magnum: What happened to 'I'll take the guys on my side'?
Jim Bonnick: There weren't any guys on my side.

Magnum: Where you been, Tyler?
Tyler: Been to an execution.
Rick: Anybody we know?
Tyler: Mine.
T.C.: Well, I guess somebody messed up then.

Rick: [tracing a vehicle for Magnum] You know, do me a favor � next time when you give me the details, at least give me a little bit more than 'the big van was painted the same color as the boy's locker room in junior high', will ya?