— Happy or sad?
— Sad.
— Okay, but I warn you; I'll break your heart.
— Already broken.
— You think I am a whore?
— Everyone's a whore, Grace. We just sell different parts of ourselves.
— I love you.
— And there it goes, Grace. Away it goes...
May you be in heaven a full half hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
You have your mother’s common sense but your father’s devilment. I see them fighting. Let your mother win.
One thing I have learned is that you and I are opposites, but also just the same. Like an image in a mirror. We hate people. And they in turn hate us. And fear us. Before the day is over, your heart will be broken just the same as mine. Men like us, Mr Shelby, will always be alone. And that love we get we will have to pay for.
Intelligence is a very valuable thing, innit, my friend? And usually it comes far too fucking late.
You have to get what you want, your own way.
— The one minute. The soldier's minute. In a battle, that's all you get. One minute of everything at once. And anything before is nothing. Everything after nothing. Nothing in comparison to that one minute.
— Didn't you get enough minutes over there?