Dominic: Florence? You see that hippie back there? If he even flickers or quivers, blow his head off.
Dominic: Tiny? The guy... this Peter. Peter is it, yeah? Peter. This guy, Peter. If he even moves, put a hole in the back of his bald head.
Pete: Jack, you better hope he kills me.
Danny Wilde: And you know what that is?
Lord Brett Sinclair: What is it?
Danny Wilde: It's a fireplace! I'm gonna clean it up, and put a big leather chair right in front here, and in the wintertime, when there's storms out, I'm gonna sit here with my old, faithful dog at my side -.
Lord Brett Sinclair: But Daniel, you don't have a dog.
Danny Wilde: Then I'll rent one.
Danny Wilde: OK, come on, give me the map, let me be the navigator.
Lord Brett Sinclair: Thank you, Daniel, I remember the last time we went to Berlin.
Danny Wilde: So?
Lord Brett Sinclair: We were supposed to be going to Madrid.
Danny Wilde: Well, nobody's perfect, kid.
Lord Brett Sinclair: Certainly not you.
Sugar: I come from this musical family. My mother is a piano teacher and my father was a conductor.
Joe: Where did he conduct?
Sugar: On the Baltimore and Ohio.
Sig Poliakoff: You're the wrong shape. Goodbye.
Joe: What are you looking for - hunchbacks or something?
Sig Poliakoff: It's not the backs that worry me.
Joe: So you got pinched in the elevator, so what? Would you rather be picking lead out of your navel?
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