My name is Michael Corleone. There are people who would pay a lot of money for that information. But then your daughter would lose a father... instead of gaining a husband.
— Will your vengeance never end?
— It is not vengeance. I am at war with the King of France. Hoist the foresail! Make fast the outer jib! This King who cripples France with taxes, to wage wars that bleed his people dry. I am against galleys, against torture, against slavery and against despotism.
— Yes, but you are alone.
— No. I am simply the first.
— Does he look… Like a bitch?
— No!
— Then why you tryin' to fuck him like a bitch?
— I didn't.
— Yes, you did. Yes, you did, Brett!
— You tried to fuck him.
— No, no.
— But Marsellus Wallace don't like to be fucked by anybody except Mrs. Wallace.
Cause every once in a while, the lion has to show the jackals... who he is.
But I'm not lying about what happened to me. And Ethel's not lying. And proof or no proof, book or no book, I am going scorched earth on these privileged, despicable miscreants. You wanna get caught in that backdraft, Cheryl? Call me, or any of these beautiful, young, strong, intelligent women... slut. One. More. Time.
— Why not kill them?
— Because then I am who they say I am.
They say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, I’d like to add one more...revenge.
When we go headlong into memories, we lose touch with the present. The brighter the memory, the happier our past seems, but one day these memories turn into hatred and then we lose the ability to move forward into the future. Heavy chains, whose name is "revenge", bind our hearts. Tears of sorrow cover our eyes...
— Oh, mighty Lord you are the dagger in my hand.
— Guide my hand on this day of vengeance.
— We give thanks to the Lord... for He is good.
— With you, the swift cannot flee.
— Nor the strong escape.
— Let my sword devour, till its thirst is quenched with blood and my enemy sleeps forever.
— For you and the God of retribution.
— For the Lord crushes the wicked.
— The Lord is merciful.
— And his love endures forever.
— Amen.
How the little piggies wiil grunt when they hear how the old boar suffered.