GoldenEye (1995)

Fleet footfall, jump, hang, glide. Physics is your plaything, Bond. A full-lipped quip in a red dress. A lithe, lip-biting woman who craves your death, pulling you down into the rocks below. Always pulling. As you escape. "Oh, please James, spare me the Freud. I might as well ask you if all the vodka martinis ever silenced the screams of all the men you've killed... or if you find forgiveness in the arms of all those willing women, for all the dead ones you failed to protect."