Varga: How do you feel?
Emmit: Free.

You should think of what you're doing. Man. Alone. In a room full of books. Talking to himself. Or maybe you think I'm your conscience. How's that story? Ghost of Christmas Past? You came back for a reason, I'm thinking. The gun? It's there on the counter. Pick it up, your gun. Now go.

Yuri

Sy: What's the saying? "If you love something, let it go"?
Ruby: If it comes back, it's yours.
Emmit: If it doesn't, hunt it down and kill it... is the version I heard.

You really think I'm...? In the face of all logic, that somehow I decided — me, the partner in a multi-million dollar corporation — that I decided to, what? Turn on you? Join forces with your leptard brother and his syphilitic floozy so that I could turn millions into thousands? What's the math there?

Sy

Emmit: I didn't mean to.
Varga: No one ever does.

Gloria: I didn't get your name.
Varga: True.

  • Permalink: True.
  • Added:

Emmit: You know, I was thinking about it on the way over. I can't think of a single person who doesn't like me... Except you.
Ray: That's what they say to your face.

Your brother was killed by his ex-convict girlfriend. He'd been abusing her, you see. Beating her in places you don't show. Tonight, she'd had enough so she cut his throat and watched him bleed. Now, the police will contact you tonight to inform you of his death. Be upset, but not too upset. Volunteer nothing. You haven't seem him for days, haven't spoken to him.

Varga

"Let each man say what he deems truth, and let truth itself be commended unto God."

Varga

It's finished, okay? Words said in anger. Crimes committed. We've both done things. It's a certain madness, I think, brotherhood. Buttons you push with me, that I push in you. Grudges. I don't want that anymore. So, I'm giving you the stamp.

Emmit

Emmit: There's been an accident.
Varga: Things of consequence rarely happen by accident.

The shallow end of the pool is where the turds float.

Varga