“Does this rationale make sense to you? (Syd)That’s Jack-Logic. It makes total sense. (Steele)”

“Oh, my God, are you okay? (Syd)You ever nick yourself while shaving? (Steele)Yeah. (Syd)You know the burn you get that hurts like hell? (Steele)Yeah. (Syd)This is nothing like that. It’s a lot worse. (Steele)”

“You’re not pregnant, are you? (Jack)What would make you think that? (Syd)Barefoot. Pregnant. Them things go hand in hand, ‘cause them pregnant women have feet that can swell up to ten times their normal size. (Jack)”

“He’s out there waiting for us. We his the street, and we’re ducks in a barrel. (Steele)Isn’t that fish in a barrel? (Syd)Don’t fuck with my metaphors right now, Syd. Can’t you see that I’m under stress? (Steele)”

“You wanted me to get a job. Well, that’s their job-screening. I kill him, or he kills me. Winner gets the job. (Steele)You’re kidding. (Syd)Absolutely. I’m not the least bit serious. All of this is one big hallucination. And I’m not sitting over here bleeding to death. But hey, since it’s a hallucination, could you please make my arm stop throbbing because right now it hurts like hell. (Steele)”

“You’re not weird, are you? (Jack)Not particularly, no. (Syd)Well, good. I got enough weirdness for the lot of us. Don’t want to share it. (Jack)”

“I didn’t know they’d do this to you. (Syd)It’s okay, Syd. Who could have imagined that a man who heads up a company of paid assassins and mercenaries would be psychotic? (Steele)”