A New York City architect becomes a one-man vigilante squad after his wife is murdered by street punks in which he randomly goes out and kills would-be muggers on the mean streets after dark.

Paul Kersey: Nothing to do but cut and run, huh? What else? What about the old American social custom of self-defense? If the police don't defense us, maybe we ought to do it ourselves.
Jack Toby: We're not pioneers anymore, Dad.
Paul Kersey: What are we, Jack?
Jack Toby: What do you mean?
Paul Kersey: I mean, if we're not pioneers, what have we become? What do you call people who, when they're faced with a condition or fear, do nothing about it, they just run and hide?
Jack Toby: Civilized?
Paul Kersey: No.
Sam Kreutzer: [Sam complains about the crime situation in the city] You know, decent people are going to have to work here and live somewhere else.
Paul Kersey: By "decent people," you mean people who can afford to live somewhere else.
Sam Kreutzer: Oh Christ, you are such a bleeding-heart liberal, Paul.
Paul Kersey: My heart bleeds a little for the underprivileged, yes.
Sam Kreutzer: The underprivileged are beating our goddamned brains out. You know what I say? Stick them in concentration camps, that's what I say.
Freak #1: Goddamn rich cunt!
Ames Jainchill: You're probably one of them knee-jerk liberals that thinks us gun boys would shoot our guns because it's an extension of our penises.
Paul Kersey: Never thought about it that way. It could be true.
Ames Jainchill: Well, maybe it is. But this is gun country.
Freak #1: Cunts! I KILL RICH CUNTS!
Paul Kersey: Any chance of catching these men?
Lt. Briggs: There's a chance, sure.
Paul Kersey: Just a chance?
Lt. Briggs: I'd be less than honest if I gave you more hope, Mr. Kersey. In the city, that's the way it is.
Sam Kreutzer: [Paul and Sam listen to a police statement on the news] I'll bet muggings are down, and they're afraid to tell us.
Paul Kersey: There's only one way to find out. Take a walk on Columbus Avenue tonight.
Sam Kreutzer: Thanks a lot, Paul. I think I'll wait for the official report.
Desk sergeant: Turn that thing off.
[points at the guys radio]
guy with radio: [without pausing] I'm listening to the weather report - why haven't you found my dog - he's vital to my income - he paints such marvelous pictures with his paws!
Jack Toby: We gotta let the cops handle this, Dad!
Paul Kersey: Yeah?
[squint]
Paul Kersey: Well, what if the cops can't handle this, Jack?
Paul Kersey: You've got a prime figure. You really have, you know.
Joanna Kersey: That's a euphemism for fat.
Freak #1: We want money, mother, now get it!
Frank Ochoa: We want you to get out of New York... Permanently.
Paul Kersey: [pause] Inspector... By sundown?
Paul Kersey: [Kersey confronts the mugger who has wounded him in the leg] Hey!
[the mugger faces Kersey and knows Kersey has the drop on him]
Paul Kersey: Fill your hand.
Mugger: [Puzzled, evidently not familiar with the old-West metaphor] Huh?
Paul Kersey: Draw.
[Kersey passes out and the mugger flees]

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