Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
Detective. Detective. DETECTIVE! You're looking for me.
You're no messiah. You're a movie of the week. You're a fucking t-shirt, at best.
I goddamn near lost my nose. And I like it. I like breathing through it. And I still think you're hiding something.
What’s in the box? What’s in the fucking box?
Ernest Hemingway once wrote, "The world is a fine place and worth fighting for." I agree with the second part.
What can I tell you, kid? You're right. When you're right, you're right, and you're right.
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.
This guy's methodical, exacting, and worst of all, patient.
Isn't that something? Middle of a drought and the water commissioner drowns. Only in L.A.