[argues his case for cancelling the 1976 German Grand Prix] I accept that every time I get into my car, there's 20% chance I could die and I could live with it, but not one percent more! And today with the rain, the risk is more.
[last lines] Of course he didn't listen to me. For James, one world title was enough. He had proved what he needed to prove. To himself and anyone who doubted him. And two years later, he retired. When I saw him next in London, seven years later, me as a champion again, him as broadcaster, he was barefoot on a bicycle with a flat tire, still living each day like his last. When I heard he died age 45 of a heart attack, I wasn't surprised. I was just sad. People always think of us as rivals but he was among the very few I liked and even fewer that I respected. He remains the only person I envied.
[James Hunt is undergoing medical checkup after a race]
James Hunt: I had a friendly disagreement with another driver about his wife.
Nurse Gemma: [checks eyes] Why, what did you do?
Hunt: Only what she asked me to do.
Gemma: Which was?
Hunt: I could show you if you'd like.
[Suzy Miller looks at James Hunt's car and laments the lack of safety features]
Suzy Miller: Why don't they make it safer?
James Hunt: The risk of death turns people on.
[miffed by Niki winning the 1975 F1 World Championship, James scrambles back to Hesketh Racing headquarters]
James Hunt: Whatever it takes to beat that prick next year, just say it, your word is my command. There are no lengths to which I will not go and I mean it. [notices Lord Hesketh feeling glum] What the hell's going on? Where is everybody? What's the matter?
Lord Hesketh: Do you know what the date it is today?
Hesketh: It's November the 14th.
Hesketh: Do you have any idea of the significance of that date?
Hunt: I don't know. Time to start killing pheasants?
Hesketh: Actually, it's the deadline for securing sponsorship for the forthcoming Formula 1 season.
Hesketh: Which elapsed at midnight last night and we didn't attract any.
Hunt: Well, so? We aren't looking for sponsorship. Like you said, condoms and cigarettes, vulgar, right?
Hesketh: Right. Except we are, or were. I've made something of a miscalculation. The economics, Formula 1, realities thereof. It turns out not like the lower divisions at all.
Hunt: What are you saying?
Hesketh: I'm saying it's over, Superstar. The banks have stepped in, started laying everyone off. Probably have to sell this place.
[Having left a party hosted by Clay Regazzoni's friends, Niki Lauda hitches a ride with Marlene Knaus]
Niki Lauda: Your fan belt is loose.
Marlene Knaus: My what?
Lauda: And when you brake your foot goes all the way down, which means there's air in the system.
Knaus: Anything else?
Lauda: No... Apart from the rear brakes are worn out, the front right tire's a bit soft, which explains why you're weaving so much.
Knaus: How can you tell?
Lauda: My ass.
Lauda: God gave me an okay mind, but a really good ass, which can feel everything in a car.
[Niki Lauda's driving a sedan that two Italian men agree to let him on the way to a train station with Marlene Knaus, who's gotten quite bored at him being careful on the road]
Niki Lauda: There's no need to drive fast. Just increases the percentage of risk. We're not in a hurry, I'm not being paid. Right now it's zero incentive or reward. Why would I drive fast?
Marlene Knaus: Because I'm asking you to.
Lauda: [in German] And do you always get what you want?
Knaus: [in German] Yeah. Usually. [suddenly pushed back against her seat as Niki steps on the gas]
[James Hunt talks to Suzy Miller about her new relationship with Richard Burton]
James Hunt: So when did all this start?
Suzy Miller: That weekend I went skiing. Why have you come here, James?
Hunt: I've got to get you back.
Miller: Oh, come on, James. You don't want me back. You never wanted to be married in the first place.
Hunt: Yes, I did.
Miller: You did it because you hoped it might change you, settle you down, help with the racing.
Hunt: No, I didn't.
Miller: And who knows, if it had been just the drinking, or the dope, or the infidelity or the moods, it might even have worked. But when it's all of them...
Hunt: Yes, I know, I'm terrible.
Miller: No, you're not terrible. You're just who you are at this point in your life. God help anyone who wants more.
Hunt: And Richard Burton, will he be able to give you more? You know, he has quite the bad-boy reputation himself.
Miller: What's important is how it feels to me, and it feels like he adores me.
[James Hunt sees a fully-recovered Niki Lauda at the 1976 Italian Grand Prix]
James Hunt: I feel responsible for what happened.
Niki Lauda: You were.
Hunt: I swayed the room and the race should never have went ahead.
Lauda: You did, but trust me. Watching you win those races while I was fighting for my life. You were equally responsible for getting me back in the car.
[Niki Lauda is being interviewed before the 1976 Italian Grand Prix]
Reporter: What did your wife say when she saw your face?
Niki Lauda: She said, "Sweetie, you don't need a face to drive, you just need a right foot." [reporters laugh]
Reporter: I'm being serious. Do you think your marriage can survive... with the way you look now?
Lauda: And I am being serious too... [points index finger at him] Fuck you! Press conference over. [storms out of room]
[At the Japanese Grand Prix James Hunt pulls into the pits with two flat tires, with the title slipping away having slipped down to fifth place with only four laps left]
James Hunt: Come on, Come on!
Alistair Caldwell: James!
Hunt: Come on!
Caldwell: Just go easy out there.
Hunt: What are you saying?
Caldwell: I’m saying look after yourself. We want you back in one piece. You’re too far back. There’s too many drivers in front of you. There’s always next year.
Hunt: So that’s it? It’s over?! ... [thrusts helmet visor shut] Fuck it! [accelerates wildly out of the pit lane]