Justified: City Primeval
Tuesdays 10:00 PM on FXJustified: City Primeval Quotes
Bryl: Either the Albanians lead us to Mansell or they turn him into little tiny pieces. Done and done.
Raylan: That’s an optimistic point of view. Another would be we just put a hit out on our suspect.
Bryl: Excuse me for misunderstanding that you had the willingness to do what needs getting done.
Raylan: I have no problem getting things done. I do have a problem rolling up on Mansell, face down in a river, shot to death by some Albanian dipshits, when what WE want is for the man to be prosecuted, forced to answer for his crimes, long period of reflection in a tiny cell.
Bryl: That’s another way to look at it.
Raylan: Look, I can’t stop you from doing what you’re gonna do. Even sympathize, in a way. But you also need to understand your place in line, which is to say, ‘Me, first.’ After I’m done, you can charge the shitheap with felony assault, but it ain’t gonna mean much if he’s doing life. You understand what I’m sayin’?
Toma: You tell me to get in line. I say, ‘You want him, you better find him quick, or he’ll be dead.’
Toma: I know you have come here to get me to compel Skender to tell you who has done this so police can arrest and serve justice as you see fit.
Bryl: He catches on fast.
Toma: Course that justice is really no justice at all. It is only satisfaction of a mandate for the appearance of order. But order and justice, they’re not the same thing. If I wanted to restore order, I could, of course, instruct Skender to cooperate. But I am not interested in order. Justice, however. Justice is meted out in accordance with the action it remedies. And in this case, justice requires more than the law is willing or able to provide.
You choose your friends, but family is thrust upon you.
Toma
Sandy: Clement, you’re the one got me this way.
Clement: Got you what way, darlin’?
Sandy: Got me what way? My nerves are shot! I mean, look, look at my hand shaking.
Clement: Could be low blood pressure.
Bryl: So we land, right? We find a dozen goddamned Albanians carrying homeboy on their shoulders like Christ off the cross. We roll up, like, ‘Hey guys, what’s crackin’?’ They go, ‘Fuck yourselves. He fell down the stairs.’
Raylan: That clumsy Jesus now?
Look, it’s not for me to tell you you’re in over your head, Carolyn, but I ain’t been here a week and the shit I’ve seen is certainly giving me pause.
Raylan
Raylan: As we speak, hordes of Eastern Europeans are spreading across Detroit, looking to ixnay your client and likely Sandy Stanton and anyone close to him along the way.
Carolyn: Why, Marshall, I think you’re trying to scare me.
Raylan: I don’t have to. The Albanians should already do that.
Carolyn: Messing with a U.S. Marshall’s daughter. I don’t know what you think you’re doing.
Clement: What am I doing? Whatever I want.
Willa: Did you like the drink he sent you at the bar?
Carolyn: Oh, that was you. The sparkler was a nice touch. Thank you.
Willa: He’s not bad for a white guy.
Raylan: It’s hard, Willa.
Willa: What’s hard? Your life? You do whatever you want.
Raylan: You’re my life.
Willa: But am I? Like, am I even in it?
Raylan: To even hear you say that!
Willa: How do you think it feels to ask?
Willa: I wish you’d just say it.
Raylan: What are we talking about now?
Willa: I got in the way and you got in trouble and it woulda been so much easier if I weren’t around.
