If you want me to keep my mouth shut, it's gonna cost you some dough. I figure a thousand bucks is reasonable, so I want two.
I like the stink of the streets. It makes me feel good. And I like the smell of it, it opens up my lungs. And it gives me a hard-on.
Nobody knows anybody. Not that well.
If I'd known we were gonna cast our feelings into words, I'd've memorized the Song of Solomon.
I'm not interested in friends from those places, and I don't trust politicians! You're still acting like a street schmuck! You know, if we'd listened to you, we'd still be rolling out drunks for a living!
We're both getting old. All that we have left now are our memories. If you go to that party on Saturday night, you won't have those anymore. Tear up that invitation.