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?
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.
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.
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!
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.
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