Frank Mercer: You want your forty g's?
Roy: Consider it a parting gift.
Frank Mercer: We should part more often.
Roy: I gotta go. I've got a big business meeting.
Angela: This late?
Roy: Antiques. They wait for no man.
Angela: My dad's a smooth operator!
Roy: Look, Doc, I spent last Tuesday watching fibers on my carpet. And the whole time I was watching my carpet, I was worrying that I, I might vomit. And the whole time, I was thinking, "I'm a grown man. I should know what goes on my head." And the more I thought about it... the more I realized that I should just blow my brains out and end it all. But then I thought, well, if I thought more about blowing my brains out... I start worrying about what that was going to do to my goddamn carpet. Okay, so, ah-he, that was a GOOD day, Doc. And, and I just want you to give me some pills and let me get on with my life.
Frank Mercer: Okay, I'd just like to, you know, take a girl out somewhere nice once in a while.
Roy: You have to pay extra for that?
Angela: She said you were a bad guy. You don't seem like a bad guy.
Roy: That's what makes me good at it.
Roy: [while looking for his pills] Pygmies!
Roy: No bullshit. And watch your mouth at the table...
Angela: You're a con man?
Roy: Con artist. Flim flam man, matchstick man, loser. Whatever. Take your pick.
Angela: And that guy Frank?
Roy: He's my partner. My protege...
Angela: Teach me something...
Roy: You're funny.
Angela: Teach me something! A con.
Roy: I'm not teaching you anything...
Angela: Why not?
Roy: Because your far too bright and innocent and beautiful and I'm not going to screw that up like everything else.
Angela: You really think that? That I'm beautiful?
Angela: Well then why won't you. Because crime doesn't pay?
Roy: No it does. It does. Just not very well.
Angela: Well you seem to be doing alright by it.
Roy: I'm not. Believe me. It's no fun doing what I do. A lot of times it's stealing from people who don't deserve it. Old people. Fat people. Lonely. A lot of times I feel sick about it.
Angela: Well then why do you do it?
Frank Mercer: There's just one problem.
Frank Mercer: I think I'm in love with you.
Frank Mercer: [on the phone] Roy [burps] I wouldn't bother you, but, well I'm dying Roy, it's my spleen, I can't... I can't feel my thumbs.
Angela: New York Super Fudge Chunk. That's my favourite flavour.
Roy: New York...?
Angela: Super Fudge Chunk.
Roy: Oh chocolate! Right.
Roy: My associate tells me you have FIVE grandkids? WOW!
Roy: For some people, money is... money is a foreign film without subtitles.
Roy: Excuse me, hi! -
Pharmacist #2: I'll be right with your Sir.
Roy: [runs to other counter] Hi, I need a refill of this. No I don't have a prescription!
Pharmacist #1: Sir, please wait your turn.
Roy: I know, I know. B-but this; is an emergency.
Man in Line: Hey buddy, ever heard a line?
Roy: Hey have you ever been dragged to the sidewalk and beaten till you PISSED... BLOOD!
Roy: You lookin' for something, sucker?
Frank Mercer: Yeah. My partner. You seen him? He's been missing most of the week. Tall, good-looking guy.
Frank Mercer: Man, you are bad! Did you take your pills?
Angela: If you're gonna get wet, might as well go swimming.
Roy: Rule no. 1: Don't work where you live.
Angela: [writing] Don't... shit... where...
Roy: [grabbing her notepad] Rule no. 2: Don't write anything down.
Roy: I'm not ver good at being a father, all right? I barely get by just being me.
Roy: You good to go?
Frank Mercer: Does the Pope pooh in the woods?
Dr. Klein: Let me ask you something. What would you do if you had to change careers?
Roy: You mean if I wasn't an antiques broker?
Dr. Klein: If you weren't a criminal.
Roy: Huh? [twitches]