The Man:
[to Rachel]
I’m sorry… but I don’t think you know what a really bad day is! But you’ll fucking learn.

The Man:
[to Rachel]
I’m sorry… but I don’t think you know what a really bad day is! But you’ll fucking learn.
Ernie:
Did he just call me a black cunt?
Coach:
Yes, he did.
Ernie:
He can’t do that. That’s racist.
Coach:
But you are black and you are a cunt, Ernie. Those are the facts. I don’t think Primetime cares what race you run in.
Ernie:
The fact that I’m black has nothing to do with the fact I’m a cunt.
Coach:
He didn’t say black people were cunts, Ernie. He was being specific to you. One has nothing to do with the other. And I’d go a step further and say it was a term of affection.
Ernie:
Primetime’s a Gypsy. I wouldn’t call him a pikey cunt.
Coach:
Why not? He might be very understanding. Only if it comes from a place of love, of course.
[first lines]
The Huntsman: [narration] Once upon a time, in deep winter, a queen was admiring the falling snow, when she saw a rose blooming in defiance of the cold. Reaching for it she pricked her finger and three drops of blood fell. And because the red seemed so alive against the white she thought, "If only I had a child as white as snow, lips as red as blood, hair as black as a raven's wings, and all with the strength of that rose." Soon after a daughter was born to the queen and was named Snow White.
[Sanchez is about to kill James]
Franz Sanchez:
You could have had everything.
James Bond:
Don’t you want to know why?
[Shows Sanchez Felix’s lighter, then sets Sanchez on fire]
Marc:
Don’t let me see you leave.
James Bond:
Cheer up, Saunders. The operation’s a success. And officially, its still yours.
Saunders:
I have no intention of leaving it at that, 007! I’m reporting to M that you deliberately missed. Your orders were to kill that sniper!
James Bond:
*Stuff* my orders! I only kill professionals. That girl didn’t know one end of her rifle from the other. Go ahead. Tell M what you want. If he fires me, I’ll thank him for it. Whoever she was, it must have scared the living daylights out of her.
Bowery King: He's offered seven million dollars for your life. Seven million dollars is a lot of money, Mr. Wick.
John Wick: So I guess you have a choice. You want a war? Or do you wanna just give me a gun?
Bowery King: Somebody, please! Get this man a gun!
[the morning after Bond sleeps with May Day]
Max Zorin:
You slept well?
James Bond:
A little restless but I got off eventually.
John Dillinger:
I was raised on a farm in Moooresville, Indiana. My mama died when I was three, my daddy beat the hell out of me cause he didn’t know no better way to raise me. I like baseball, movies, good clothes, fast cars, whiskey, and you… what else you need to know?
Bowery King:
He’s offered seven million dollars for your life. Seven million dollars is a lot of money, Mr. Wick.
John Wick:
So I guess you have a choice. You want a war? Or do you wanna just give me a gun?
Bowery King:
Somebody, please! Get this man a gun!