Steve Penteroudakis: [while at a bar] Yeah, listen, I been fucking everywhere putting up posters, man, you know? Every project hallway, all over City Point, everywhere, you know? I mean, it's a real tragedy. She used to come in here, sit up at the ba...
Lenny: [to Angie] You ever wanna get fucked, let me know. [Patrick pistol-whips Lenny in the face] Patrick Kenzie: How's that, motherfucker? Now you know.
Angie Gennaro: Did you ever sell to Helene? Bubba Rogowski: There's reasons why there ain't three inches of plexiglass between us right now. That's because I don't fuck with skeezers like Helene. Or coconuts like Cheese. You should know better by now...
Detective Remy Bressant: [to Helene] You even give a fuck about your kid?
Helene McCready: [crying] I know I fucked up. I just want my daughter back. I swear to God, I won't use no drugs no more. I won't even go out; I'll be fucking straight. Cross my heart. Patrick Kenzie: [comforting her] It's all right. We're gonna find...
Cheese: Bitches love the cheddar.
Cheese: You got my money, you leave that shit in the mailbox on your ass way out, you feel me? Some other motherfuckers let fool rob on them. I don't play scrimmage. But I don't fuck with no kids. And if that girl only hope is you, well, I pray for h...
Detective Remy Bressant: [about Patrick] Half the guys he knows are degenerates. Patrick Kenzie: Yeah, you know what the other half are? Detective Remy Bressant: What? Patrick Kenzie: Cops. Don't hold it against me.
Capt. Jack Doyle: Do you have any children, Miss Gennaro? Angie Gennaro: No, sir. Capt. Jack Doyle: My only child was murdered. She was twelve. Did you hear about it? What you probably didn't hear, and what I hope you never have to deal with, Miss Ge...
Patrick Kenzie: And like that, she was gone. We gave our statements. Nick and Remy the same. All of us spared any blame for Amanda's death. Jack Doyle resigned on the condition that he and he alone be held accountable. He was granted the dignity of e...
Patrick Kenzie: I couldn't stop running it over and over and over in my mind. The vague and distant suspicion that we never understood what happened that night; what our role was. Or maybe it was just like the hundreds of other children who disappear...
Patrick Kenzie: They say how old the boy was? Detective Remy Bressant: Seven. Patrick Kenzie: Second grade. Detective Remy Bressant: Should be proud of yourself. Most guys would've stayed outside. Patrick Kenzie: I don't know. Detective Remy Bressant...
Detective Remy Bressant: Would you do it again? Clip Corwin Earle? Patrick Kenzie: No. Detective Remy Bressant: Does that make you right? Patrick Kenzie: I don't know. Detective Remy Bressant: It doesn't make it wrong, though, does it?
Officer in Procession: [approaching Patrick and shaking his hand] Mr. Kenzie. Nice fucking job on Corwin Earle.
Lionel McCready: Helene's got emotional problems. Beatrice McCready: It's not that, Lionel. Lionel McCready: What is it, then? Beatrice McCready: She's a cunt! Lionel McCready: Beatrice, don't use that word. Beatrice McCready: God help me, it's true.
Angie Gennaro: This is horrible. Patrick Kenzie: Not for Channel 9.
Detective Remy Bressant: That bartender wasn't fucking around.
Patrick Kenzie: Make me a fucking martini, you fat fucking retard!
