Nicky: You see, there's a science to getting people to trust you. With women, it's all about emotion. Connection. That you feel the emotion as strongly as they do. They've been dreaming about that shit ever since they were little girls.
Nicky: With her it was shared history. A friendly face. Set her off balance. Helps diffuse aggression. Start discussing emotional shit. They're disarmed. Now they're open. You know you got 'em when they start to unconsciously mimic you. A head nod. A hand gesture. It means you're in sync. Sociologists refer to it as the Gauchais Reaction.
Nicky: And then, you move in for the kill. You tell them how they've changed you. Changed how you see the world. Then you close. A talisman. A gift that says: You've always been in my thoughts.
Nicky: I can convince anyone of anything. I once convinced a man that an empty warehouse was the federal reserve, so I'm good.
Owens: There's a lazy Sunday softness to your generation. Makes me uncomfortable. I like to be on my feet. I'll lie down when I get cancer. Or if I fuck. Both of which will be done on my back, in case you were wondering.
Nicky: Actually, I wasn't wondering. But thank you for sharing that.
Owens: Sarcasm. Another pillar of your generation. You wanna tell somebody to fuck off, tell them to fuck off. Don't say, "Gee, what a great jacket." It's weakness.
Jess: [suddenly sitting at his table]
Will you be my boyfriend? Just for a minute. You're not a serial killer, are you?
Nicky: That depends. How many times does it take to get to "serial"?
Owens: I took you off the street. Taught you my trade. I taught you my passion. Three generations of skills. And in spite of all my earnest efforts, in spite of all my hard work, you turned into a good person.
Nicky: Well, if I die, I die telling the truth. And if I lie, I'm gonna lie like normal people lie.
Owens: Love'll get you killed in this racket. No place for that shit here. No happiness with that. You know how they say there's honor among thieves? Well, you're no thief, Mellow. You made your choice.
- [last lines ]
Jess: [limping toward emergency room]
We'll be fine.