Цитаты из фильмов
Собрание цитат из наиболее популярных фильмов. Самые известные цитаты.
Eddie: They're armed.
Soap: What was that? Armed? What do you mean armed? Armed with what?
Eddie: Err, bad breath, colorful language, feather duster... what do you think they're gonna be armed with? Guns, you tit!
Rory Breaker: If the milk turns out to be sour, I ain't the kinda pussy to drink it.
Nick the Greek: Just get me a sample.
Tom: No can do.
Nick the Greek: What's that? Some place near Katmandu? Meet me halfway, mate.
Tom: Look, it's all completely chicken soup.
Nick the Greek: It's what?
Tom: It's kosher. As Christmas.
Nick the Greek: The Jews don't celebrate Christmas, Tom.
Big Chris: It's been emotional.
Tom: There's no money, there's no weed. It's all been replaced by a pile of corpses.
Rory Breaker: If you hold back anything, I'll kill ya. If you bend the truth or I think you're bending the truth, I'll kill ya. If you forget anything, I'll kill ya. In fact, you're gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now, do you understand everything I've said? 'Cause if you don't, I'll kill ya.
"Hatchet" Harry: I don't want to know who you use, as long as they're not complete muppets.
Soap: A minute ago this was the safest job in the world. Now it's turning into a bad day in Bosnia.
Winston: Charles, get the rifle out. We're being fucked.
Soap: OY! Keep your fingers out of my soup!
Barry the Baptist: If you don't want to be counting the fingers you haven't got, I suggest you get those guns. Quick!
Gary: Shotguns? What, like guns that fire shot?
Barry the Baptist: Oh, you must be the brains of the operation. Yes, guns that fire shot.
Winston: We grow copious amounts of ganja here, and you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking-culturalist.
Winston: Charles, why have we got that cage?
Charles: Uh, security.
Winston: That's right, that's right, security. So what's the point in having it if we're not goin' fucking use it?
Charles: Well, I would've used it but this is Willie and Willie lives here.
Winston: Yes, but you didn't know it was Willie until you opened the door, did you?
Willie: Chill, Winston, it's me. Charlie knows it's me. What's the problem?
Winston: The problem, Willie, is that Charles and yourself are not the quickest of cats at the best of times. So just do as I say and keep *the fucking cage locked!* What is that?
Willie: That's Gloria.
Winston: Yes I know that's Gloria, what's that?
Willie: Fertilizer.
Winston: You went out six hours ago to buy a money counter and you come back with a semi-conscious Gloria and a bag of fertilizer. Alarm bells are ringing, Willie.
Willie: We need fertilizer Winston.
Winston: Mmmhmm. We also need a money counter. This money's got to be out by Thursday, I'm buggered if I'm gonna count it. Just make sure if you do need to buy sodding fertilizer you could be a bit more subtle.
Willie: What do you mean?
Winston: We grow copious amounts of ganja, yah? And you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking-culturalist! That's what I mean Willie.
Plank: Ah! They fucking shot me!
Dog: Well, fucking shoot 'em back!
John: Jesus, Plank, couldn't you have got smokeless cartridges? I can't see a bloody thi - Ah! Shit! I've been shot!
Dog: I don't fucking believe this! Can everyone stop gettin' shot?
Little Chris: Fuckin' hell John, do you always walk around with this in your pocket?
Big Chris: Hey! You use language like that again son, you'll wish you hadn't!
Big Chris: All right, son: roll them guns up, count the money, and put your seat belt on.
[
Discussing their careers as marijuana growers]
J: I've a strong suspicion we should have been rocket scientists, or Nobel Peace Prize winners or something.
Charles: Peace Prize? Ooh. Be lucky to find your penis for a piss, the amount you keep smoking.
Tom: Well, he can afford to do the deal at the price we're selling. It's not worth him giving us any trouble cause he kows we'll be a pain in the arse.
Soap: I'd take a pain in the arse for half a million quid.
Tom: You'd take a pain in the arse for air miles.
Soap: Tom, the fatter you get, the sadder you get.
Eddie: Will you two stop flirting for a minute?
Soap: Where the fuck are they going?... Shift a piano? I thought this was meant to be a robbery.
Eddie: Where did they get those outfits?
Tom, Bacon: Not a bad idea, that.
Dean: He's got the guns. Go ahead. You get them.
Gary: Why me?
Dean: You're supposed to be the hard case.
Gary: [
shrieks] You get the guns. I drive the car!
Soap: Rory Breaker? That psychotic black dwarf with an Afro?
Tom: That would be the same man, yes.
Soap: You're not funny, Tom. You're fat, and look as though you should be, but you're not.
[
haggling with Tom]
Nick the Greek: What else does it come with?
Tom: It comes with a gold-plated Rolls Royce, as long as you pay for it.
Nick the Greek: Dunno. Seems expensive.
Tom: Seems? Well, this seems to be a complete waste of my time. That, my friend, is 900 nicker in any store you're lucky enough to find one in. And you're haggling over 200 pound? What school of finance did you come from Nick? "It's a deal, it's a steal, it's the Sale of the fucking Century!" In fact, fuck it Nick, I think I'll keep it!
Nick the Greek: All right all right, keep your Alans on!
[
Peels off notes from his wad]
Nick the Greek: Here's a ton.
Tom, Eddie: Jesus Christ!
Eddie: You could choke a dozen donkeys on that! And you're haggling over one hundred pound? What're you doing when you're not buying stereos Nick? Finance revolutions?
Nick the Greek: 100 pound is still 100 pound.
Tom: Not when the price is 200 pound it ain't! And certainly not when you've got Liberia's deficit in your skyrocket. Tighter than a duck's butt you are. Now, lemme feel the fibre of your fabric.
Tom: It's a deal. It's a steal. It's sale of the fucking century! Actually, fuck it, Nick, I think I'll keep it.
[
after shooting each other]
Gary: What the fuck are you doing here?
Barry: What the FUCK are YOU doing here?
Barry the Baptist: Lock, stock, the fuckin' lot.
[
first lines]
Bacon: Right. Let's sort the buyers from the spyers, the needy from the greedy, and those who trust me from the ones who don't, because if you can't see value here today, you're not up here shopping. You're up here shoplifting. You see these goods? Never seen daylight, moonlight, Israelite. Fanny by the gaslight. Take a bag, c'mon take a bag. I took a bag home last night. Cost me a lot more than ten pound, I can tell you. Anyone like jewelry? Look at that one there. Handmade in Italy, hand-stolen in Stepney. It's as long as my arm. I wish it was as long as something else. Don't think because these boxes are sealed up, they're empty. The only man who sells empty boxes is the undertaker, and by the look of some of you lot today, I'd make more money with me measuring tape. Here, one price. Ten pound.
Eddie: Did you say ten pound?
Bacon: Are you deaf?
Eddie: That's a bargain. I'll take one.
Bacon: Squeeze in if you can. Left leg, right leg, your body will follow. They call it walking. You want one as well, darling? You do? That's it. They're waking up. Treat the wife. Treat somebody else's wife. It's a lot more fun if you don't get caught. Hold on. You want one as well? Okay, darling, show me a bit of life then. It's no good standing out there like one o'clock half-struck. Buy them, you better buy them. These are not stolen, they just haven't been paid for, and we can't get them again. They've changed the bloody locks. Here. One for you. It's no good coming back later when I've sold out. "Too late, too late" will be the cry when the man with the bargains has passed you by. If you got no money on you now, you'll be crying tears as big as October cabbages.
Eddie: Bacon, cozzers!
Bacon: Shit.
Eddie: Can we lock up and get drunk now?
Rory Breaker: What did you shoot him with, an air rifle?
Winston: Look, we grow weed. We're not mercenaries.
Rory Breaker: You don't say.
Eddie: Oh, and if Tom or anyone else for that matter feels like givin' them a bit of a kickin', I'm sure it won't do any harm.
Soap: Yeah, little bit of pain never hurt anybody. If you know what I mean. Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, fuck-off shiny ones. Ones that look like they could skin a crocodile. Knives are good, because they don't make any noise, and the less noise they make, the more likely we are to use them. Shit 'em right up. Makes it look like we're serious. Guns for show, knives for a pro.
Tom: Soap, is there something we should know about you?
Bacon: I'm not sure what's more worrying. The job or your past.
Barry the Baptist: Fucking northern monkeys!
Lenny: I hate these fucking southern fairies!
"Hatchet" Harry: You must be Eddie, J.D.'s son.
Eddie: Yeah. You must be Harry. Sorry, didn't know your father.
"Hatchet" Harry: Never mind son, you just might meet him if you carry on like that.
Eddie: Soap, don't be such a mincer.
Rory Breaker: Is this some white cunts joke that black cunts don't get? 'Cause I'm not fucking laughing Nicholas.
Rory Breaker: Get Nick, that greasy wop, shistos, pesevengi, gamouri Greek bastard, if he's stupid enough to still be on this planet.
Bacon: Harry didn't think that he did a very good job, so he grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which just so happened to be a 15 inch black rubber cock, and proceeded to beat poor old Smithy to death with. And that was seen as a nice way to go. Now, that, is why you pay Hatchet Harry, when you owe.
Rory Breaker: Your stupidity may be your one saving grace.
Nick the Greek: Uuugh?
Rory Breaker: Don't "uuugh" me, Greek boy!
Soap: Can we lock up and get drunk now?
Barfly Jack: He then proceeds to order an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the Nuclear sub.
Tom: Rory Breaker?
Barfly Jack: Rory? Yeah I know Rory. He's not to be underestimated, you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing - it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone to the local battle-cruiser to catch the end of his footer. Nobody is watching the custard so he turns the channel over. A fat man's north opens and he wanders over and turns the Liza over. 'Now fuck off and watch it somewhere else.' Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game; so, calm as a coma, he stands and picks up a fire extinguisher and he walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, then he plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. 'That's fucking it,' says the guy. 'That's fucking what' says Rory. Rory gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty; he then flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the man's lit up like a leaky gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turned back to his game. His team's won too. Four-nil.
Barry the Baptist: When you dance with the devil, you wait for the song to stop.
Eddie: The entire British empire was built on cups of tea, and if you think I'm going to war without one, mate, you're mistaken.
Gary: So who's the gov'? Who we doing this for?
Barry the Baptist: You're doing it for me, that's all you need to know. You know because you need to know.
Gary: I see. One of them "on a need to know basis" things is it. Like one of them James Bond films.
Barry the Baptist: Careful. Remember who's giving you this job.
Tom: Listen to this one then; you open a company called the Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club. You take an advert in the back page of some gay mag, advertising the latest in arse-intruding dildos, sell it a bit with, er... I dunno, "does what no other dildo can do until now", latest and greatest in sexual technology. Guaranteed results or money back, all that bollocks. These dills cost twenty-five each; a snip for all the pleasure they are going to give the recipients. They send a cheque to the company name, nothing offensive, er, Bobbie's Bits or something, for twenty-five. You put these in the bank for two weeks and let them clear. Now this is the clever bit. Then you send back the cheques for twenty-five pounds from the real company name, Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club, saying sorry, we couldn't get the supply from America, they have sold out. Now you see how many of the people cash those cheques; not a single soul, because who wants his bank manager to know he tickles arses when he is not paying in cheques!
Big Chris: I've got some bad news for you, John.
John: What the fuck?
[
Chris closes tanning parlor on John]
Big Chris: Mind your language in front of the boy!
John: Jesus Christ!
[
Chris does it again]
Big Chris: That includes blasphemy as well!
Soap: A little bit of pain never hurt anybody, if you know what I mean.
Don: I'll fold.
Phil: Fold? Is that the only word you learnt at school?
Don: No, I also learned the word cunt!
Bacon: What's that?
Samoan Joe's Barman: It's a cocktail. You asked for a cocktail.
Bacon: No. I asked you to give me a refreshing drink. I wasn't expecting a fucking rainforest! You could fall in love with an orangutan in that!
Samoan Joe's Barman: You want a pint, you go to the pub.
Bacon: I thought this was a pub!
Samoan Joes Barman: It's a Samoan pub.
Eddie: Twenty grand, open.
"Hatchet" Harry: Thirty thousand. Back to you, already-Eddie.
Eddie: Fifty grand.
"Hatchet" Harry: Eighty grand.
Eddie: One hundred grand.
Player: Whoa, whoa, whoa, look fellas, I know...
"Hatchet" Harry: I know you're not in. Which means, no-one cares what you know.
JD: I do know your reputation. So I choose my words very carefully. You tell Harry to go fuck himself.
Big Chris: Now... I'll put that on a shock. Only once.
Tom: They lack any kind of criminal credibility. I might get laughed at.
Dog: What the fuck is that?
Mickey: It's me bren gun.
Dog: Couldn't you have thought of something more practical?
Barry the Baptist: Hello son, would you like a lolly?
Little Chris: Piss off, you nonce!
Barry the Baptist: [
Barry is trying to stop his computer switching off] Come on! Not now, please, not -
[
computer goes off]
Barry the Baptist: Oh, you fucking bastard.
Paul: Come take a look at this.
Traffic Warden: Take a look at what, exactly?
Paul: Well, the van's half-full. So all I have to do is fill it up, put you in it,
[
knocks him out]
Paul: and I'm off.
Tom: [
after having just robbed Dog and his crew] Jesus, that wasn't too bad, was it?
Soap: When the bottle in my arse has contracted, I'll let you know.
Eddie: Bacon, see what we've got.
Bacon: Let's have a butcher's, eh?
[
as he inspects their loot]
Bacon: We've hit the jackpot, lads! We've got God-knows-how-much of this stinking weed, a shitload of cash... and a traffic warden.
Tom: What?
[
Bacon holds up an unconscious man]
Tom: Jesus, Ed, we've got a traffic warden!
Bacon: I think he's still alive - he's got claret coming out of him somewhere. What did they want with a traffic warden?
Eddie: I don't know, but I don't think we need him! Knock him out and dump him at the lights!
Bacon: Knock him out? What'd ya mean, knock him out? Knock him out with what?
Eddie: I don't know! Use your imagination!
[
Bacon punches the Traffic Warden, who moans in pain]
Tom: Don't touch him up! Knock him out!
Bacon: I'll knock you out in a minute! Look, you want to knock him out? *You* knock him out.
Eddie: I fucking hate traffic wardens.
[
after a pause, Tom and Eddie jump into the back of the van with Bacon; all three proceed to batter the Traffic Warden senseless]
Dog: I'll find you... I'll find you.
Bacon: 'Course you will sweetheart!
[
Ties Dog's hands behind him]
Dog: I'll find you.
Bacon: What d'you think this is? Fucking hide and seek?
"Hatchet" Harry: It's about time you paid our young friends a visit, Chris. Today's the day and mum's the word, and I can't have that, can I?
Big Chris: No, 'Arry, you can't.
"Hatchet" Harry: I mean, it's a liberty. And I can't have liberties taken, can I, Barry?
Barry the Baptist: No, 'Arry, you can't.
"Hatchet" Harry: I mean, it's enough to give me the arsehole. And I can't have the arsehole, can I, boys?
Big Chris, Barry the Baptist: No, 'Arry, you can't.
Eddie: That's quite a raise. That's 150 on my 100.
"Hatchet" Harry: Yeah. And is there anything else you want to say?
"Hatchet" Harry: Don't go spending it all at once, boy.
"Hatchet" Harry: Back to you, already-Eddie.
Eddie: As you know this puts us in awkward position... I don't have enough to continue.
Big Chris: [
Big Chris has just explained that Eddie is in debt with Hatchet Harry] I understand if this has come as a bit of a shock. But let me tell you
how this can be resolved by you, a good father.
JD: Go on.
Big Chris: He likes your bar.
JD: Yes?
Big Chris: He wants your bar.
JD: And?
Big Chris: Do you want me to draw you a picture?
Gary: I've just spent 120 quid on me hair. If you think I’m puttin a stockin over me head you're very much mistaken.
Dean: [
after seeing Gary holding a candle under the house owner's feet] Whoa, whoa Kenny! What are you doin?
Gary: I am trying to find out where they keep their money!
Dean: You twat! Can't you see these people have got no money? They can't even afford new furniture! We've got the guns, whats the matter with you? Everytime we do a job, you have to go burning people's feet, whats wrong with you?
Barry the Baptist: [
answering his phone] What?
Dean: I thought you said there'd be no staff Barry!
Barry the Baptist: Did you get those guns?
Dean: You wanna see what they did to poor Gary?
[
calling out to a delirious Gary]
Dean: Gary? Gary?
Barry the Baptist: I said, did you get those guns?
Dean: YES, WE GOT THEM!
Barry the Baptist: Good, I'll speak to you later
[
hangs up the phone]
Dean: Gary, if you can hear me, get back in the car now mate okay?
[
turning his attention back to Barry]
Dean: Barry? Barry? Fucking sodding shandy-drinking bastard!
Rory Breaker: Your stupidity must be your one saving grace.
Nick the Greek: Uh?
Rory Breaker: Don't "uh" me Greek boy! How is it that your fucking stupid soon-to-be-dead friends thought they might be able to steal my cannabis and
then sell it back to me? Is this a declaration of war? Is this some white cunt's joke that black cunts don't get? 'Cause Im not fucking laughing Ni-ko-las!
Nick the Greek: [
shrugs nervously]
Rory Breaker: I know you couldn't have known my position 'cause you're not that stupid that if you did, you wouldn't have turned up here scratching your arse with that "what's going on here?" look slapped all over your chevy chase! But what you do know is where these people live.
[
rises from his chair and walks towards Nick]
Rory Breaker: If you hold back anything, I'll kill ya. If you bend the truth or I think you're bending the truth, I'll kill ya. If you forget anything, I'll kill ya. In fact, you're gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now, do you understand everything I've just said? 'Cause if you don't, I'll kill ya! Now, Mr Bubble and Squeak, you may enlighten me.
Nick the Greek: [
nods nervously]
Duke: What you lookin' at old man?
Walt Kowalski: Ever notice how you come across somebody once in a while you shouldn't have fucked with? That's me.
Walt Kowalski: Oh, I've got one. A Mexican, a Jew, and a colored guy go into a bar. The bartender looks up and says, "Get the fuck out of here."
Walt Kowalski: Jesus, Joseph and Mary. These Hmong broads are like badgers.
Walt Kowalski: [
sneering and aiming his gun] Get off my lawn!
Thao Vang Lor: Excuse me Sir, I need a haircut if you ain't too busy you old Italian son of a bitch prick barber. Boy, does my ass hurt from all of the guys at my construction job.
Walt Kowalski: [
to Su] Get me another beer, Dragon Lady! This one's running on empty.
Walt Kowalski: Relax, Zipperhead.
Barber Martin: There. You finally look like a human being again. You shouldn't wait so long between hair cuts, you cheap son of a bitch.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah. I'm surprised you're still around. I was always hoping you'd die off and they got someone in here that knew what the hell they were doing. Instead, you're just hanging around like the doo-wop dago you are.
Barber Martin: That'll be ten bucks, Walt.
Walt Kowalski: Ten bucks? Jesus Christ, Marty. What are you, half Jew or somethin'? You keep raising the damn prices all the time.
Barber Martin: It's been ten bucks for the last five years, you hard-nosed Polack son of a bitch.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah, well keep the change.
Barber Martin: See you in three weeks, prick.
Walt Kowalski: Not if I see you first, dipshit.
Youa: You're funny.
Walt Kowalski: I've been called a lot of things, but never funny.
Walt Kowalski: I once fixed a door that wasn't even broken yet.
Thao Vang Lor: What was it like to kill someone?
Walt Kowalski: You don't want to know.
Walt Kowalski: [
about Korea] We shot men, stabbed them with bayonets, chopped up 17 year olds with shovels.
Father Janovich: Why didn't you call the police?
Walt Kowalski: Well you know, I prayed for them to come but nobody answered.
Walt Kowalski: How many swamp rats can you get in one room?
Thug: How old are you anyway?
Sue Lor: Mentally, I'm way too old for you.
Mitch Kowalski: What would I want?
Walt Kowalski: I don't know... Your wife's already gone through all of your mother's jewelry.
Walt Kowalski: I'll blow a hole in your face then go inside and sleep like a baby.
Walt Kowalski: I used to stack fucks likes you five feet high in Korea... use ya for sand bags.
Barber Martin: That'll be 10 bucks, Walt.
Walt Kowalski: Jesus, what are you, half Jew?
Sue Lor: There's a ton of food.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah, well just keep your hands off my dog.
Sue Lor: No worries, we only eat cats.
Walt Kowalski: Would it kill you to buy American?
Sue Lor: The Lutherans brought us over.
Walt Kowalski: Everybody blames the Lutherans.
Walt Kowalski: What the hell does everybody want with my Gran Torino?
Ashley Kowalski: [
clearly uninterested] Grandpa Walt, you want me to help you with that, the chairs?
Walt Kowalski: No, you probably just painted your nails.
Walt Kowalski: [
about his son] I worked in Ford for 50 years and he sells Japanese cars.
Walt Kowalski: Take these three items, some WD-40, a vise grip, and a roll of duct tape. Any man worth his salt can fix almost any problem with this stuff alone.
Smokie: Are you fucking crazy? Go back in the house.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah? I blow a hole in your face and then I go in the house... and I sleep like a baby. You can count on that. We used to stack fucks like you five feet high in Korea... use ya for sandbags.
Walt Kowalski: [
aims gun at thug] Shut your fuckin' face!
[
walking over to some black thugs]
Walt Kowalski: What are you spooks up to?
Walt Kowalski: I'm no hero. I was just trying to get that babbling gook off my lawn!
Josh Kowalski: [
making the sign of the cross] Spectacles, testicles, wallet, and watch.
Walt Kowalski: I confess that I have no desire to confess.
Father Janovich: I know you're close to these people, but this pisses me off, Mr. Kowalski.
Walt Kowalski: Where's Dr. Feldman, my regular doctor?
Dr. Chang: Dr. Feldman retired three years ago, I'm his replacement, Dr. Chu.
Sue Lor: Oh great, another asshole with an Asian girl fetish. God, this is getting so old.
Thao Vang Lor: [
Walt's smoking] You should quit. Those things are bad for you.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah? So's being in a gang.
Thao Vang Lor: They were going to take me away. They're pissed because I blew my first initiation.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah, you're a real pussy for wanting to hang out with that gang. What was your initiation anyway?
[
Thao gestures at the car]
Walt Kowalski: My Gran Torino?
Walt Kowalski: You know, Thao and Sue are never going to find peace in this world as long as that gang's around.
Walt Kowalski: [
about Thao] I don't care about him.
Sue Lor: You hang out with him, you teach him to fix things, you saved him from that fucked cousin of ours.
Walt Kowalski: Watch your language, lady.
Sue Lor: And you're a better man to him than our own father was. You're a good man.
Sue Lor: Kind of ironic, isn't it?
Walt Kowalski: What is?
Sue Lor: Thao washing your car after he tried to steal it.
Walt Kowalski: And if he misses a spot, he has to do it all over again.
Walt Kowalski: [
to Father Janovich] The thing that haunts a guy is the stuff he wasn't ordered to do.
Father Janovich: What are you gonna do, Walt?
Walt Kowalski: Whatever it is, they won't have a chance.
Father Janovich: What can I do for you Walt?
Walt Kowalski: I'm here for confession.
Father Janovich: Holy Jesus, what did you do?
Walt Kowalski: Relax, zipperhead. I'm not gonna shoot you. I'd look down too, if I was you. You know, I knew you were a dipshit the first time I ever saw you. Then I thought you were worse with women than stealing cars... Toad.
Thao Vang Lor: It's Thao.
Walt Kowalski: What?
Thao Vang Lor: It's not Toad, my name is Thao.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah, well, you were blowing it with that girl who was there. Not that I give two shits about a toad like you.
Thao Vang Lor: You don't know what you're talking about.
Walt Kowalski: You're wrong, eggroll, I know exactly what I'm talking about. I may not be the most pleasant person to be around, but I got the best woman who was ever on this planet to marry me. I worked at it, it was the best thing ever happened to me. Hands down. But you, you know, you're letting Click-Clack, Ding-Dong and Charlie Chan just walk out with Miss What's-her-face. She likes you, you know? Though I don't know why!
Thao Vang Lor: Who?
Walt Kowalski: Yum Yum. You know, the girl in the purple sweater. She's been looking at you all day, stupid!
Thao Vang Lor: You mean Youa?
Walt Kowalski: Yeah... Yum Yum... yeah... nice girl... nice girl, very charming girl... I talked with her... yeah. But you, you just let her walk out right out with the Three Stooges. And you know why? 'Cause you're a big fat pussy. Well, I gotta go. Good day, pussycake.
Walt Kowalski: [
to Father Janovich] I think you're an overeducated 27-year-old virgin who likes to hold the hands of superstitious old ladies and promise them everlasting life.
Walt Kowalski: [
reading aloud from the newspaper] Your birthday today, Daisy. This year you have to make a choice between two life paths. Second chances comes your way. Extraordinary events culminate in what might seem to be an anticlimax. Your lucky numbers are 84, 23, 11, 78, and 99. What a load of shit.
Walt Kowalski: Now you just gotta learn how guys talk. You just listen to the way Martin and I banter it back and forth. You OK? You're ready?
Thao Vang Lor: Sir!
Walt Kowalski: Alright let's go in...
Barber Martin: Perfect! A Polak and AND a Chink!
Walt Kowalski: How ya doing Martin, you crazy Italian prick?
Barber Martin: Walts! You cheap bastard! I should have known you'd come in, I was having such a pleasant day!
Walt Kowalski: What'd you do? You ruse some poor blind guy out of his money? Gave him the wrong change?
Barber Martin: Who's the Nip?
Walt Kowalski: Ohh... He's a pussy kid from next door. I'm trying to man him up a little bit... You see kid, now that's how guys talk to one another.
Thao Vang Lor: They do?
Barber Martin: What, you got shit on your ribs?
Walt Kowalski: Now you go out and come back in and talk to him like a man, like a REAL man. Come on! Get your ass outta here! Come on back now.
[
to Martin]
Walt Kowalski: Sorry about this.
Thao Vang Lor: What's up ya old Italian prick?
Barber Martin: [
pointing rifle at Thao] Get out of my shop before I blow your head off, you goddamn dick sucker! Go!
Walt Kowalski: Jezus Christ, Holy Shit! Hehe. Take it easy, take it easy!
[
to Thao]
Walt Kowalski: What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?
Thao Vang Lor: But that's what you said. That's what you said men say.
Walt Kowalski: You don't just come in and insult the man in his own shop! You just don't do that. What happens if you meet some stranger? You get the wrong one, he's gonna blow your gook head right off!
Thao Vang Lor: What should I have said then?
Barber Martin: Well... why don't you start with... eeehm... Hi or Hello...
Walt Kowalski: Yeah, just come in and say... eeeehm... Sir, I'd like a haircut if you have the time.
Barber Martin: Yeah, be polite, but don't kiss ass.
Walt Kowalski: In fact you could talk about a construction job you just came from and bitch about your girlfriend and your car.
Barber Martin: eeeehm... Son of a bitch, I just got my brakes fixed and eeehmm those son of bitches really nailed me, I mean they screwed me right in the ass!
Walt Kowalski: Yeah, don't swear AT the guy, just talk about people who are not in the room... eeeh... you could talk about your boss... eeeh... making you work extra time when there is bowling night.
Barber Martin: Right, or... eeeh... my old lady bitches for two goddamn hours about how... eeeeh... they don't take expired coupons at the grocery stores. And the minute I turn on the fucking game, she starts crying how we never talk!
Walt Kowalski: [
Walt is trying to "man" up Thao] Now go out and talk to him, and it ain't rocket science for Christ's sake.
Thao Vang Lor: Yeah, but I don't have a job, a car, or a girlfriend.
Barber Martin: Jesus. I shoulda blown his head off when I had the chance.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah. Maybe so.
[
last lines]
Lawyer: [
reading from Walt's will] And I'd like to leave my 1972 Gran Torino to...
[
the lawyer pauses and looks up at Ashley, who smiles expectantly]
Lawyer: ...my friend... Thao Vang Lor. On the condition that you don't chop-top the roof like one of those beaners, don't paint any idiotic flames on it like some white trash hillbilly, and don't put a big, gay spoiler on the rear end like you see on all the other zipperheads' cars. It just looks like hell. If you can refrain from doing any of that... it's yours.
Father Janovich: [
eulogizing Walt] Walt Kowalski once said to me that I knew nothing about life or death, because I was an over-educated, 27-year-old virgin who held the hand of superstitious old women and promised them eternity.
[
the congregation chuckles politely and somberly]
Father Janovich: Walt definitely had no problem calling it like he saw it. But he was right. I knew really nothing about life or death, until I got to know Walt... and boy, did I learn.
Walt Kowalski: Get your ofay paddy ass on down the road.
[
first lines]
Al: God, I am sorry for Dorothy, Walt. She was a real peach.
Walt Kowalski: Thanks for coming, Al.
Walt Kowalski: [
Walt has just gotten Thao a job from his Irish friend] Come on, Zipperhead. We'll leave the mick here to play with himself.
Walt Kowalski: You got your whole life ahead of you, but for me, I finish things.
Walt Kowalski: [
Looking at the elderly Hmong woman next door] The old hag hates my guts!
Walt Kowalski: [
to Thao] Have some respect, zipperhead. We're in mourning here.
Father Janovich: Go in peace.
Walt Kowalski: Oh, I am at peace.
Father Janovich: What is this thing called life?
Sue Lor: All the people in this house are very traditional. Number one: never touch a Hmong person on the head. Not even a child. The Hmong people believe that the soul resides on the head, so don't do that.
Walt Kowalski: Well... Sounds dumb, but fine.
Sue Lor: Yeah, and a lot of Hmong people consider looking someone in the eye to be very rude! That's why they look away when you look at them.
Walt Kowalski: Yeah. Anything else?
Sue Lor: Yeah... some Hmong people tend to smile or grin, when they're yelled at. It's a cultural thing, it expresses embarrassment or insecurity. It's not that they're laughing at you or anything.
Walt Kowalski: Right, you people are nuts.
[
first lines]
Mackiepenny: Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, the glory, now and forever. Amen.
Connor: [
picking out weapons and gear] Do ya know what we need, man? Some rope.
Murphy: Absolutely. What are ya, insane?
Connor: No I ain't. Charlie Bronson's always got rope.
Murphy: What?
Connor: Yeah. He's got a lot of rope strapped around him in the movies, and they always end up using it.
Murphy: You've lost it, haven't ya?
Connor: No, I'm serious.
Murphy: Me too. That's stupid. Name one thing you gonna need a rope for.
Connor: You don't fuckin' know what you're gonna need it for. They just always need it.
Murphy: What's this 'they' shit? This isn't a movie.
Connor: Oh, right.
[
picks up large knife out of Murphy's bag]
Connor: Is that right, Rambo?
Murphy: All right. Get your stupid fuckin' rope.
Connor: I'll get my stupid rope. I'll get it. This is a rope right here.
[
after Rocco shoots three men in a coffee shop]
Murphy: Liberating, isn't it?
Connor: Let's fuckin' go!
Rocco: You know, it is a bit.
Doc: You know what they say: People in glass houses sink sh-sh-ships.
Rocco: Doc, I gotta buy you, like, a proverb book or something. This mix'n'match shit's gotta go.
Doc: What?
Connor: A penny saved is worth two in the bush, isn't it?
Murphy: And don't cross the road if you can't get out of the kitchen.
[
the two brothers are in an airshaft and getting a bit uncomfortable]
Murphy: Where the fuck are you going?
Connor: Shhh. I fucking hearin' some shit out here.
Murphy: Ahh, fuck you! I'm sweatin' my ass off draggin' your fuckin' rope around. Must weigh thirty pounds.
Connor: Shhh. We are doing some serious shit here, now get a fucking hold of yourself!
Murphy: Oh, *fuck you*! I'm not the rope-totin' Charlie Bronson wannabe that's getting us fucking lost!
Connor: Would you fucking shut it?
[
taps him on the head with his flash light, and both brothers start fighting in the air vent until it gives way]
Connor: You mother- Jesus fucking Christ!
Murphy: Oh, shit!
Doc: He left me his c-c-c... He left me his c-c-c... Oh, he fucking gave me this. Fuck! Ass!
Rocco: [
shouts] Fuck it! There's so much shit that pisses me off! You guys should recruit, 'cause I'm sick and fucking tired of walking down the street, waiting for one of these crack-piping, ass-wiping, motherless lowlifes to get me!
Murphy: Hallelujah, Jaffar.
Rocco: So, like, you're not just talking about mob guys, right? You're talking about pimps and drug dealers and all that shit, right?
Connor: Oh, yeah.
Rocco: Fuck. You guys could do this every goddamn day!
Murphy: We're sorta like 7-Eleven. We're not always doing business, but we're always open.
Connor: That is nicely put.
[
after Rocco enters the bar]
Rocco: Hey fuck-ass, give me a beer.
Rocco: I'm the fuck outta here!
Connor: Now you will receive us.
Murphy: We do not ask for your poor, or your hungry.
Connor: We do not want your tired and sick.
Murphy: It is your corrupt we claim.
Connor: It is your evil that will be sought by us.
Murphy: With every breath we shall hunt them down.
Connor: Each day, we will spill their blood till it rains down from the skies.
Murphy: Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal, these are principles which every man of every faith can embrace.
Connor: These are not polite suggestions, these are codes of behavior and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost.
Murphy: There are varying degrees of evil, we urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over, into true corruption, into our domain.
Connor: For if you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three. And on that day, you will reap it.
Murphy: And we will send you to whatever god you wish.
[
Murphy and Conner join II Duce behind Yakavetta]
Connor, Murphy, Il Duce: And shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
Il Duce: In nomine Patri.
Connor: Et Fili.
Murphy: Spiritus Sancti.
Ivan Checkov: I am Ivan Checkov, and you will be closing now.
Murphy: Checkov? Well, this here's McCoy. We find a Spock, we got us an away team.
Paul Smecker: [
Agent Smecker walks up to the first crime scene, where Chekov and his partner lay dead] Brilliant. So now we got a huge guy theory, and a serial crusher theory. Top notch. What's your name?
Detective Greenly: Detective Greenly. Who the fuck are you?
Paul Smecker: [
opens his coat and shows his FBI credentials] That's who the fuck I am.
[
after Smecker proves the Boston detectives wrong]
Paul Smecker: We'll start the ass-kissing with you.
Paul Smecker: [
enters the police station, packed with cops] First of all, I'd like to thank whichever one of you donut-munching, barrel-assed, pud-pulling sissies leaked this to the press. That's just what we need now: some sensational story in the papers making these boys out to be superheroes, triumphing over evil. Let me squash the rumors now. These two are not heroes. They're just two ordinary men who were put in an extraordinary situation and they just happened to come out on top. Yes, nothing from our far-reaching computer system has turned up diddly on these two. All we know is what we found out from the neighbors, and the general consensus is, they're angels. But angels don't kill. And we got two bodies in the morgue that look like they've been "serial-crushed by some huge friggin' guy".
Il Duce: Whosoever shed man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. For in the image of God may deem man.
Yakavetta: I'm having a shitty day. I'm depressed. Tell me a funny joke.
Rocco: Now? A joke? Uh... um, uh... A joke. Yeah, alright. Um... There's these, uh, three guys, uh... a-a-a-a spic, a-a-a-a white guy and a black guy.
Yakavetta: Nigger.
Rocco: Yeah, n-n- Yeah. And-and they walk along the beach, they see this pot, they rub it, genie comes out. Genie says, you know, "You wish for anything you want." So, he asks, uh-uh, Mexican what-what he wants, and he goes, uh, uh, "I want, uh, all my people in America to be happy and free and in Mexico." And so, genie - Poof! And, all the spics are in Mexico. And then he asks the black guy...
Vincenzo Lipazzi: Nigger.
Rocco: Yeah, that's what I said. Goes to the, uh- uh, nigger, says, uh, "What do you want?" And he goes, um, uh, "I want all my African- my nigger brothers in America to be back in Africa and-and happy and everything." You know? So, genie goes poof! And, um, all the niggers in America are in Africa. And, uh, uh, uh, this is go- I'm not funny today. I-I know. I'm havin' a hard day. I-I-I- This joke sucks. It's-it's-it's a stupid joke.
Yakavetta: Continue the joke.
Rocco: So the genie says to the white guy, uh, um, "What's your one wish?" And the white guy goes, "You mean to tell me all the niggers and spics are out of America?" Genie goes, "Yeah." He says, "Well, um, I'll have a Coke, then."
Paul Smecker: Now, you Irish cops are perking up. That's two sound theories in one day, neither of which deal with abnormally sized men. Kind of makes me feel like Riverdancing.
[
after dropping through the ceiling on a rope and killing nine mobsters]
Connor: Well, "Name one thing you're gonna need this stupid fucking rope for."
Murphy: That was way easier than I thought.
Connor: Aye.
Murphy: You know, on TV you always got that guy that jumps over the sofa.
Connor: And then you gotta shoot at him for ten fucking minutes, too.
Murphy: Aye.
Connor: Christ.
Murphy: We're good.
Connor: Yes, we are.
Rocco: They can suck my pathetic little dick, and I'll dip my nuts in marinara sauce just so the fat bastards can get a taste of home while they're at it.
Rocco: I killed your cat, you druggie bitch.
Donna: God.
Rayvie: What?
Donna: Why?
Rocco: I thought it would bring closure to our relationship.
Connor: We haven't really got a system of deciding who, Roc. It's, uh...
Rocco: Me! *Me*! I'm the guy! I know everyone! Their habits, who they hang out with, who they talk to! I've got phone numbers, addresses! I know who they're fucking! I know where they live! We could kill *everyone.*
Murphy: So what do you think?
Connor: I'm strangely comfortable with it.
Paul Smecker: Oh, isn't that beautiful? All the lowlifes in quiet city Boston start dropping dead and *you* think it's unrelated! Greenly, the day I want the Boston Police to do my thinking for me, I will have a fucking tag on my toe!
Yakavetta: He's happy now, just killing us one by one. And worse, he's good at it.
[
Yakavetta wants to call in Il Duce]
Augustus DiStephano: Your father and I used him three times in twenty years, only when things got totally fucked. Whenever we needed one of our own bumped off, we called this guy in. He had a thing for clipping wiseguys, but only one rule: No women, no kids. Believe me, kid, you don't want this guy unless you are one hundred percent sure you need him. He's a fucking monster.
Rocco: This guy takes out a whole family... wife, kids, everyone... like he's ordering fucking pizza.
Paul Smecker: So you're telling me it was one guy with six guns, and he was a senior frigging citizen?
Paul Smecker: These burns indicate that they used silencers. Look at these entry and exit wounds. They're almost identical. The two bullets went in here, through the top of the skull, criss-crossed, and exited through the eyeballs. This one clue tells us three distinct facts. Number one, Duffy?
Detective Duffy: They shot him at a downward angle... They put him on his knees?
Paul Smecker: Excellent! Number two, Greenly?
Detective Greenly: They... shot him at a downward angle?
Paul Smecker: It tells us he was the last to die. And number three, Dolly?
Detective Dolly: Uh... there was two shooters.
Paul Smecker: Fan-frigging-tastic.
[
the other detectives start to object]
Paul Smecker: Stay with me, boys! What did they do to make two such identical wounds. Two men, of similar height, drop this guy down, each puts some iron to his head, and boom, that's all she freakin' wrote.
Detective Duffy: What about one guy, two guns?
Paul Smecker: Eh, possible, but unlikely. The angles are too extreme. A guy holding two guns to the back of your noodle is gonna shoot straight ahead. He wouldn't cock out his elbows, it makes no sense. Besides, are you telling me *one guy* came in here and killed eight men with eight extremely well-aimed shots in just a few seconds? No way. Had to be at least two.
Connor: How far are we gonna take this, Da?
Il Duce: The question is not how far. The question is, do you possess the constitution, the depth of faith, to go as far is as needed?
Connor: It's the real deal, Roc. Evil men, dead men.
[
after Rocco fondles an unconscious stripper's breast]
Connor: What the fuck are you doing?
Rocco: ...I'll tip her.
Yakavetta: The 90's are killing me. I shouldn't have done that. You're not supposed to tell a guy you're gonna kill him no more. I got to tiptoe through the tulips with these assholes. Taking all the fun out of the job.
Il Duce: Never shall innocent blood be shed, yet the blood of the wicked shall flow like a river. The Three shall spread their blackened wings and be the vengeful striking hammer of God.
[
after Rocco gets his finger shot off]
Rocco: Feels like it's still there.
Connor: Yeah, well it's not.
Paul Smecker: Television. Television is the explanation for this - you see this in bad television. Little assault guys creeping through the vents, coming in through the ceiling - that James Bond shit never happens in real life! Professionals don't do that!
Doc: Why don't you make like a tree, and get the fuck outta here?
Connor: Jeez! It's a fuckin' six-shooter. Fuck!
Murphy: There's nine bodies, genius.
Connor: What the fuck were you gonna do, laugh the last three to death, Funny-Man?
Rocco: Anybody *you* think is evil?
Connor: Aye.
Rocco: Don't you think that's a little weird, a little psycho?
Connor: D'you know what I think is psycho, Roc? It's decent men with loving families. They go home every day after work and they turn on the news. You know what they see? They see rapists, and murderers and child molesters. They're all getting out of prison.
Murphy: Mafiosos. Gettin' caught with twenty kilos. Gettin' out on bail the same fuckin' day.
Connor: And everywhere, everyone thinks the same thing: that someone should just go kill those motherfuckers.
Murphy: Kill 'em all. Admit it. Even you've thought about it.
Rocco: You guys should be in every major city. This is some heavy shit. This is, like, Lone Ranger heavy, man.
Paul Smecker: They exited out the front door. They had no idea what they were in for. Now they're staring at six men with guns drawn. It was a fucking ambush.
[
they exit the house to find Il Duce, one man with six guns]
Paul Smecker: This was a fucking bomb dropping on Beaver Cleaverville. For a few seconds, this place was Armageddon!
[
shouts]
Paul Smecker: There was a firefight!
Rocco: Fuckin'- What the fuckin'. Fuck. Who the fuck fucked this fucking... How did you two fucking fucks...
[
shouts]
Rocco: Fuck!
Connor: Well, that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word.
Paul Smecker: Good shooting, shitty shooting.
Paul Smecker: Just pour the drink, you fairy fuck.
Detective Dolly: So what's the symbology there?
Paul Smecker: Symbology? Now that Duffy has relinquished his "King Bonehead" crown, I see we have an heir to the throne! I'm sure the word you were looking for was "symbolism." What is the ssss-himbolism there?
[
after Smecker gets a phone call in bed with his gay lover and slaps him]
Paul Smecker: What are you doing?
Hojo: I just wanted to cuddle.
Paul Smecker: Cuddle? What a fag.
Connor: Destroy all that which is evil.
Murphy: So that which is good may flourish.
Detective Greenly: These guys are miles away by now, but if you wanna beat your head against a wall, then here's what you're looking for: they're scared, like two little bunny rabbits. Anything in a uniform or flashing blue lights is gonna spook 'em, okay? So the only thing we can do is put a potato on a string and drag it through South Boston, "Thanks for coming out!"
[
Murphy and Connor walk into the station and Smecker sees them]
Murphy: You'd probably have better luck with a beer.
Connor: Aye, you would.
Detective Greenly: Aw, fuck.
Paul Smecker: Hey, Greenly. Onion bagel, cream cheese.
Paul Smecker: [
walking through the hotel room] How many bodies, Greenly?
Detective Greenly: Eight.
[
Smecker gives him a look]
Detective Greenly: Ah, shit! I forgot about that one! Nine! Nine?
Paul Smecker: While Greenly's out gettin' coffee, anybody else want anything?
Detective Greenly: Shit.
Detective Greenly: [
giving his theory about the two dead Russians in the alley] This guy takes a blunt object, fuckin', waah! Hits the guy with the bandages around his head, right? Why? 'Cause he's smart. He knows the guy with the bandages around his ass, he ain't goin' nowhere. He's goin' fuckin' nowhere.
[
to dead body]
Detective Greenly: Where you goin'? Nowhere!
Connor: Okay, Roc...
[
Connor looks at him and laughs; his mask is badly put on]
Rocco: What? You guys got masks.
Murphy: You look like Mush Mouth from Fat Albert.
[
as they keep giggling, Rocco takes his mask off]
Rocco: Fine! Fuck it. When we're done, she can ID me. I don't care. Just trying to be professional, but nooooo...
Connor: It looks fine!
Rocco: Fuck it.
Connor: Now shut the fuck up, you look good. Put it on! You look fuckin' scary, man!
[
Rocco puts his mask on, again badly]
Connor: [
trying not to laugh] Now Roc, are you sure that you're obee-kay-bee?
[
seeing the nine dead Russian mobsters that the masked men killed]
Rocco: Boy, you guys sure did a good job. Ah shit, you guys are good huh? Cool masks. Where'd you get 'em?
[
to a trio of Russian mobsters]
Rocco: Hey, Boris. What would you do if I told you your pinko Commie mother sucked so much dick, her face looks like an egg?
Detective Duffy: This was their target, the fag-man.
Paul Smecker: The what-man?
[
awkward pause]
Detective Duffy: The fat man.
Paul Smecker: Well. Freud was right.
Connor: Donna's gonna be angry about her cat.
Rocco: Shit. She's on every drug known to man. She'd have sold the thing for a dime-bag. Screw her.
Rocco: I do kinda feel like an asshole, though.
Connor: Yeah, Roc, you sound real remorseful there.
Detective Greenly: What if it was just one guy with six guns?
Paul Smecker: Why don't you let me do the thinking, huh, genius?
Paul Smecker: Why don't you get me a cup of coffee?
Detective Greenly: Who the hell is this...?
Paul Smecker: Cafe latte.
Detective Greenly: What the fuck...?
Paul Smecker: Twist of lemon.
Detective Greenly: Chief, what the fuck is this?
Paul Smecker: Sweet'N Low.
Murphy: Yeah, it's St. Patty's Day, everyone's Irish tonight. Why don't you just pull up a stool and have a drink with us?
Il Duce: When I raise my flashing sword, and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, and I will repay those who haze me. Oh, Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints.
Paul Smecker: It looks like we've got us a cowboy.
Detective Greenly: Tooralooraloora!
[
about the scene of the two dead Russian mobsters]
Detective Dolly: Nobody reported any gunshots.
Paul Smecker: This is an Irish neighborhood. I'm surprised you even got a phone call.
[
while interrogating the boys, Smecker is surprised that they are fluent in Russian]
Paul Smecker: You speak any other languages?
Murphy: Aye. Our mother insisted on it.
Paul Smecker: French?
Murphy: [
in French] How do you think he figured all this out without talking to us?
Paul Smecker: Oh, that's beautiful.
Connor: [
in Italian] I have no idea. Maybe somebody saw and talked.
Paul Smecker: What's that?
Connor: [
chuckling] That's Italian.
Murphy: [
in German] Not in our neighborhood, man. A hundred percent Irish. No one talks to cops. Period.
Paul Smecker: [
not understanding] Jawohl!
Connor: [
in Spanish] Then I guess he's just real, real good.
[
last lines]
Man in the street: I'm ready to
[
beep]
Man in the street: my
[
beep]
Man in the street: on. OK? I'm ready to get busy too. You know, I'm ready to get *busy*.
