Creasy: Okay, my friend. It's off to the next life for you. I guarantee you, you won't be lonely.
Rayburn: A bullet always tells the truth.
Fuentes: A last wish, please, please. Please.
Creasy: Last wish? I wish you had more time.
Creasy: Forgiveness is between them and God. It's my job to arrange the meeting.
Rayburn: A man can be an artist... In anything, food, whatever. It depends on how good he is at it. Creasey's art is death. He's about to paint his masterpiece.
Samuel: So what happened?
Jordan: Family paid the ransom. And they sent the kid home after a couple of days... Minus an ear, of course.