Bob: [Bob is waiting outside the city prison after Hartigan's release] It's a lotta miles into town, Hartigan. You care for a ride?
John Hartigan: Long as you stay in front of me.
Bob: Prison's made you paranoid. Talk about water under the bridge. Christ.
[he takes a drag on his cigarette]
Bob: Eight years.
John Hartigan: [softly] Yeah. Eight years.
Bob: Well, if it's any consolation to ya...
[he takes another drag]
Bob: ... you made me hate myself.