Wendy Leather: So, come on then, what don't I know? Romantic dinner on Monday night?
Terry Leather: Look honey, I'm going to be working some strange hours over the next week or two, so don't ask me what I'm doing because I don't want to lie to you.
Terry Leather: There's another problem. This robbery's pissed off some local villains.
Tim Everett: The guts come with the glory, eh?
Terry Leather: One of our mates has been killed.
Tim Everett: Hardly surprising considering the roster of reprobates that are the safe deposit box customers. Listen Terry, our commitment is for the recovery of the royal portraits only. The proceeds and the piss-offs are both yours to deal with.
Terry Leather: Radio's in the bag. Binoc's as well. There's a bed set at the top floor of this building. Pay for the week. The ladder will get you to the roof. You're in from Liverpool, looking for work.
Eddie Burton: I don't have a Liverpool accent.
Terry Leather: Then don't talk to anyone, Eddie.
Terry Leather: These people aren't regular cozzers, Martine. They're above that. They do things coppers can't. They think we've seen these photos, and we're expendable as dog shit.
Detective Sergeant Tom Brant: A word of advice, girls. If you're picking the wrong fight... At least pick the right weapon.
Reporter: Conners, can we have a few words?
Quentin Conners: Yeah, I have two words for you. Blow me.
Bernie Callo: I need to speak with you.
Quentin Conners: Well that's where you run out of luck. Because I don't need to speak with you.
Chev Chelios: Don't pop a blood vessel, you little penis.
Chev Chelios: What is this stuff?
Doc Miles: Synthetic ephedrine diluted with some saline.
Chev Chelios: Feels sort of good.
Doc Miles: Yeah well. I got a little Meth in there too, so that's the endorphins you feel running to your brain.
Chev Chelios: Wait a minute so I'm not better?
Doc Miles: Fuck no you're not better. You're in such shit shape it's stunning. I can't belive your hearts still beating. Shit should be in a fucking medical journal.
Chev Chelios: Does it look like I got cunt written on my head? Who do you think you are fucking with?
Chev Chelios: I'm alive! I'm alive.
Chev Chelios: You haven't been tight since your brother fucked you in third grade.
Chev Chelios: I'm looking for something that begins with an E.
Pharmacist: England?
Chev Chelios: [After catching Johnny Vang.] Did I just drop some change, or did I hear a chink?
Chev Chelios: Where's my fucking pumper?
Jensen Ames: So what are you in for?
Case: They say I killed a cop.
Jensen Ames: Did you do it?
Case: Yeah.
Jensen Ames: Bad cop?
Case: Good cop... Lousy husband.
Coach: Tomorrow morning you'll meet your navigator Case. She'll help you navigate the course, reload your weapons, and help with the running of the car.
Jensen Ames: I'd love to talk to her ahead of time before the race.
Gunner: Yeah, I'd like a big-tittied girl to lick peanut butter off my toes, but it ain't gonna happen. This is still a prison, man. She's a chick. They get busted from the women's facility upstate.
Coach: It's all about ratings. Fast cars, pretty women...
Gunner: Machine Gun Joe's the only one that has male navigators, 'cause he's gay.
Lists: A-a-actually it's because he goes through them so fast, and a-a-audience gets squeamish.
Gunner: Yeah he goes through them... Through their ass.
Coach: He cuts each kill into his skin as a souvenir, I hear.
Lists: Jensen Garner Ames. Moved to the states at twenty-four years old. Named after a car, the Jensen Intercepter. A three time local speedway champion.
Jensen Ames: You've done your homework, or do you just know everything?
Coach: Jensen Intercepter. I had one. Handled like a school bus.
Jensen Ames: You sure are lucky a driver like me just happened to turn up in your prison when I did.
Hennessey: Oh, I'm more than lucky. I'm blessed. Sometimes it's like the right hand of god is sitting on my shoulder.
Lee Christmas: You were stupid enough to get yourself into this mess! And we're the only ones crazy enough to get you out of it!
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