Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.

I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.

Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. "That little toothpick won't save you, Gypsy." "Touthpick?" Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!

You bruised my ego, you see, and there’s just not enough money in the world to soothe my ego when it gets bruised

Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay the ladies just as well as I can reapers.

Too bad the smile was on the face of the wrong man.

This is an Aston Martin, Gin.You don't run over dead bodies in an Aston Matin." "Tell that to James Bond