C'est pas ma faute,
Et quand je donne ma langue au chat,
Je vois les autres,
Tout prets a se jeter sur moi.
C'est pas ma faute a moi,
Si j entends tout autour de moi:
Hello, helli, t'es A.
Moi Lolita...
Every man is innocent until speculated guilty.
— I'm sorry, Walt.
— It's not your fault. Which injuries are you apologizing for, specifically?
— Specifically? Whichever ones still hurt.
— Half of those were self-inflicted.
Humans forget their foolishness and repeat their mistakes. If humans do not redeem themselves willingly, they will not change.
— Would you take it?
— I'd take it.
— Would you wear it?
— Why would I not?
— That's my question. My wife was wearing it the night she was shot. And... I lie awake at night. At four in the fucking morning and I blame myself to her dead. I pushed some people too far.
— You want me to tell you this jewel is cursed. And then her death won't all be your fault.
— If I believed in priests, I would confess and ask for forgiveness. But all I have is you, Madame Boswell. I have a son. I have a business. I need to get some sleep.
— It is cursed. I feel its curse burning through my hand.
Explanation:
Thomas brought the sapphire to the gypsy.
— She just stepped into the canal... It was me trying to stop her, for three days. In the end, she did it anyway.
— Did she say why?
— Nothing that made sense.
— Tell me the things that didn't make sense.
— She said it were the Gypsies made the nails for Jesus's cross. That's why we're cursed and restless. You have to move around or the guilt catches up with you. <...> And then she was gone... You see, I was in love with her, Tom. No one knew but me. Broke my fucking heart to pull her from the cut. You know, your grandfather, he went the same way. Suicide. Sometimes, these things run in the family. Fuck family, Tom. You just have to get on with it. You're a Gypsy. You have to move around, or it all catches up with you.
Explanation:
Charlie tells Tom about his mother's death.
I've dug two graves for us, my dear,
Can't pretend that I was perfect, leaving you in fear,
Oh man, what a world, the things I hear!
If I could act on my revenge, then, oh, would I?
Some kill, some steal, some break your heart,
And you thought that I would let it go and let you walk,
Well, broken hearts break bones, so break up fast,
And I don't wanna let it go, so in my grave I'll rot.