Davy Jones

— But I wonder, Sparrow, can you live with this? Can you condemn an innocent man, a friend, to a lifetime of servitude in your name while you roam free?
— Yep. I'm good with it.

Life is cruel. Why should the afterlife be any different?

— You're a cruel man, Jack Sparrow.
— Cruel is a matter of perspective.

Love. A dreadful bond.

— You loved her. She's the one. And then you betrayed her.
— She pretended to love me. She betrayed me.
— And after which betrayal did you cut out your heart, I wonder?

— Lookie here, boys. A lost bird. A lost bird that never learned to fly.
— To my great regret. But... never too late to learn, eh?

— You have a debt to pay. You've been captain of the Black Pearl for 13 years. That was our agreement.
— Technically I was only captain for two years, then I was mutinied upon.
— Then you were a poor captain, but a captain nonetheless. Have you not introduced yourself all these years as Captain Jack Sparrow?
— You have my payment. One soul to serve on your ship.
— One soul is not equal to another.
— We've established my proposal is sound in principle. Now we're haggling over price.

— The boy's not here. He must have been claimed by the sea.
— I am the sea.

Do you fear death? Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare. All your sins punished.

— And what of your fate, Davy Jones?
— My heart will always belong to you.

— I can set you free, mate.
— My freedom was forfeit long ago.