John Shelby

— Gentlemen, this is your cousin. Polly's son, Michael.
— Pleased to meet you. John.
— I'm Arthur. You've already met me. I used to throw you out of the window, so John could catch you.
— I used to put you in a shoebox and kick you down Watery Lane.

Michael was taken from his mother when he was little. His first meeting with his brothers many years later.

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— I thought you were off the whisky, Arthur.
— Yeah, I am. I'm having a couple now and again to remind myself why I don't drink it.

— Tommy... Of all of the people in the world, I want you to see it... as brave. <...>
— Brave is going where no man has gone before. And with Lizzie Stark, John, that is really not what you'll be doing.

John wanted to marry a girl of easy virtue.

— And who told the police?
— You know what, John? For all I think I'm the smart one, I'm guessing it was me.

— How's Arthur?
— For Christmas, get him a sewing kit... so he can sew his fucking balls back on.

— Well, at least you're going to get what you've always wanted.
— And what's that?
— Well, you tried to hang yourself twice. Now the King is gonna do it for you.
— I've been a fucking idiot. I haven't appreciated nothing, John.
— Are you fucking repenting or something?
— Drawing. I used to be good at drawing.
— Arthur, please, for God's sake, I don't need this.
— I should have listened more in class.
— What fucking class? You were never there.
— I used to draw horses. Stallions. Great big ones. They looked real. I should have done more with me life, John. Good things. Even Ada said it wasn't my fault.
— Arthur, will you listen? They're not gonna hang you.
— Says who?
— Tommy.
— And how is Houdini gonna get me out of this?

— Now we can bury him properly, in the grave we dug for him.
— Yeah. It's high on a hill. He'll like that. To Danny Whizz-bang! May we all die twice.

Danny died in a shootout. Before that, for the sake of his salvation, the Peaky Blinders staged his death.

— Look, it's the Mafia, all right? This is the New York Mafia we're talking about.
— And we're the Peaky fucking Blinders.
— No, we're not, John. We're not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we're together.
— You were together on the gallows, with one man missing.