Debbi: Duke, let's go do some crimes.
Duke: Yeah. Let's go get sushi and not pay.
Archie: Awww. Dukie Wookie hurt his widdle hand.
Duke: Fuck you, Archie. Just for that you're not in the gang anymore.
Otto: Excuse me while I fold my pants.
English Dustbin Lady: Hey. I know you. You're the one that run into my trash.
J. Frank Parnell: You ever feel as if your mind had started to erode?
Bud: Tense situations, kid. You get into five or six of 'em a day, it don't mean shit anymore. I mean, I've seen men stabbed, didn't mean shit to me. I've seen guns, guns too, they don't mean shit. But that's when you gotta watch yourself.
Reverend Larry: I DO want your money, because god wants your money.
Duke: You say our names, we're going to have to kill all these people, Archie.
Agent Rogersz: Good evening, Otto. This is Agent Rogersz. I'm going to ask you a few questions. Since time is short and you may lie, I'm going to have to torture you. But I want you to know, it isn't personal.
Lite: I walk into someone's place of work, they shit scared. They know I'm not a cop, think I've come to kill 'em. And I would. I'll kill anybody who crosses me. Know what I mean?
Bud: The life of a repo man is always intense.
Motorcycle Cop: Whatcha got in the trunk?
J. Frank Parnell: Oh... You don't wanna look in there.
Agent Rogersz: It happens sometimes. People just explode. Natural causes.
Bud: Look at those assholes, ordinary fucking people. I hate 'em.
Duke: The lights are growing dim Otto. I know a life of crime has led me to this sorry fate, and yet, I blame society. Society made me what I am.
Otto: That's bullshit. You're a white suburban punk just like me.
Duke: Yeah, but it still hurts.
Miner: You gonna give me my car, or do I gotta go to your house and shove your dog's head down the toilet?
Lite: You like music, listen to this. I was into these dudes before anyone. Wanted me to be their manager. I called bullshit on that. Managing a pop group is no job for a man.
Oly: Oh, yeah, you're fuckin' A we ripped your car, asshole. You want to know who told us where it was? Your god-damned brother.
Lite: Hey, Oly. Your wife's hanging all over Otto.
Oly: Yeah, flies on shit.
