— It's not the people around here that are disloyal to the King. It's the opposite. You see, we don't want our beloved king looking down and seeing the things that have been done to us. So we are taking down his pictures.
— But why are you burning them?
— We went through hell for our king. Walked through the flames of war. Write all this down! And now we're being attacked in our own homes. These new coppers over from Belfast, breaking into our homes and interfering with our women. We don't think our king would want to see that happening. So we are lighting fires to raise the alarm.
— May I ask you, in what capacity do you speak?
— No capacity. I'm an ordinary man. I won gallantry medals at the Somme. I want you to write in your paper what's going on here.
And what fucking line am I supposed to have crossed? How many fathers, right, how many sons, yeah, have you cut, killed, murdered, fucking butchered, innocent and guilty, to send straight to fucking hell, ain’t ya? Just like me!!! You fucking stand there, you judging me, stand there and talk to me about crossing some fucking “line”.
— She gave me sixpence and she sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. And I came back...
— With a top hat and a coconut?
— That was all our money we had for the whole fucking week and my mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.
— Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?
— Cos I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand why people like us only had bread and fucking lard... And I wanted to be different. That's what I wanted.
— And you are.
— Nevertheless the pro-treaty Paddies and the King want the same man dead... Why him?
— Did you ask why in France?
— Yeah.
— So, it's the same answer, because.
— Why me?
— Because.
— All right, then. Well, what now?
— I will continue... till I find a man that I can't defeat.
— In which direction are you heading, Mr Shelby?
— I am my own revolution.
Young she is, when she's barefoot on the cobbles.
— Thomas Shelby from where?
— From Birmingham.
— Goodness!..
— No, not much.
This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you give me. For your hearts and your souls. Yesterday, I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that. For what? For what? For this? For this...?! And I know that you all want me to say that I'll change, that this fucking business will change. But I've learnt something in the last few days. Those bastards. Those bastards are worse that us. Politicians, fucking judges, lords and ladies. They're worse than us, and they will never admit us to their palaces, no matter how legitimate we become... because of who we are. Because of who we fucking are, because of where we're fucking from. Isn't thar right, Ada? Our Ada knows. She got smart about revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way. Lizzie, I want it known, that money was for you because, some nights, it was you... who stopped my heart from breaking. No-one else. And the rest of you, you took the King's shilling. You took the King's fucking shilling. When you take the King's shilling, the King expects you to kill.
— People look different at home.
— In what way?
— Off guard.