Hudson Hawk

— Anna... we're supposed to be saving you.
— I'm sorry. I got bored, so I saved myself.

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— You probably love Butterfingers over there.
— Well, yeah. In a weird sort of Catholic way, I do.

You know what, Cesar, if the Mario brothers weren't Jersey's third largest family, I'd say kiss my ass. But considering your status, I'll say slurp my butt.

— I'll torture you so slowly, you'll think it's a career. I'll kill your friends, your family and the bitch you took to the prom.
— Betty Jo Biarsky? I can get you an address on that, if you want.

— Five-Tone, let me ask you something.
— Go ahead.
— Why do they leave all these rocks and shit laying out in the backyard?
— They're called ruins, Eddie.

— My life's pretty boring.
— Yeah, mine too. You have dinner with me tonight? Nice, dull, boring dinner? Scrabble, knock-knock jokes, anecdotes about dead Italians?

— Enjoying Italy?
— Yeah.
— Yes. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Roma. I did my first bare-handed strangulation here. Communist politician.
— Why, George, you big softy.
— God, I miss Communism. The Red threat. People were scared... the agency had some respect, and I got laid every night.

You better be glad I don't hit women, assuming you are a woman, because from now on, I ain't taking nothing for granted.