What can I tell you, kid? You're right. When you're right, you're right, and you're right.
Twenty years you know a guy, you fuckin' whack him out just like that over a lounge? That's beautiful.
Isn't that something? Middle of a drought and the water commissioner drowns. Only in L.A.
I goddamn near lost my nose. And I like it. I like breathing through it. And I still think you're hiding something.
When I introduce you, I'm gonna say, "This is a friend of mine." That means you're a connected guy. Now if I said instead, this is a friend of ours that would mean you a made guy. A Capiche?
You're a very nosy fellow, kitty cat. Huh? You know what happens to nosy fellows? Huh? No? Wanna guess? Huh? No? Okay. They lose their noses.
A wise guy's always right; even when he's wrong, he's right.
All my life I've tried to be the good guy, the guy in the white fucking hat. And for what? For nothing. I'm not becoming like them; I am them.