On the day of my judgment, when I stand before God, and He asks me why did I kill one of his true miracles, what am I gonna say? That it was my job? My job?
- Follow the money.
- What do you mean? Where?
- Oh, I can't tell you that.
- But you could tell me that.
- No, I have to do this my way. You tell me what you know, and I'll confirm. I'll keep you in the right direction if I can, but that's all. Just... follow the money.
People hurt the ones they love. That's how it is all around the world.
I'm tired, boss. Tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with, or tell me where we's coming from or going to, or why. Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world everyday.
- You'll have to figure that on your own.
- Look, I'm tired of your chickenshit games! I don't want hints! I need to know what you know!
All non-denial denials. They doubt our ancestry, but they don't say the story isn't accurate.
Look, I'm gonna count to 10, all right? If there's any reason we should hold on the story, hang up before I get to 10. If the story's all right, you'll be on the phone after I get to 10, all right?