I don't have to beat you. I don't have to beat you, motherfucker. I just have to keep you here... until Jean shows up.

I can’t name the poison that’s killing your friend. But the one that’s killing you is called hope.

Are you smarter than a pig, Locke?” “On occasion,” said Locke. “There are contrary opinions.

This is where you and I are headed.... Look for us in history books and you'll find us in the margins. Look for us in legends and you might just find us celebrated

I'll wager I would have screwed things up regardless. But. . .can you imagine those poor bastards grappling their prey, leaping over the rails, swords in hand, screaming, 'Your cats! Give us all your gods-damned cats!

I'm speaking of the pursuit of excellence in all things. All things! Presence of mind and devotion to craft. A great artist has these. A great chef. A great master of tea. There's powerful kung fu in a well-built house or an eloquent letter, but the limit of your imagination is bones breaking and bullets flying.

You can knock down kingdoms on a whim. What you need is someone to make sure you don't get hit by a carriage when you cross the street.