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A criminal bides his time at a seedy motel, waiting for his boss after killing several men and making away with a mystery bag.
Dragna: Can I give you a little bit of advice, Jack? If you took one-tenth of the time you spend on killing people and devoted it to reading a book now and then, I really think you would derive great benefit. Don't you?
Jack: You don't know what you're getting into, man. Ned: Oh, that's funny, because that's what I was just about to say to you.
Jack: You are one tough Hebrew. Rivka: You have no idea. Maybe we should go to the hospital. Jack: Ya think?
Dragna: I don't like surprises, I never did. I never really enjoyed that whole Pop Goes The Weasel thing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the unexpected. And, in fact, I'd say I'm a connoisseur of the unexpected. But I don't like surprises.
Lawyer: You look like you've been in a war. Rivka: You could say so. I'm lucky to have good doctors whose specialty's not asking questions.
Jack: I got shot. Rivka: In the hand? Jack: Yeah. Rivka: Why? Jack: Because I'm lucky like that. Rivka: Did they miss your heart or they couldn't find it?
Dragna: You just can't keep the women in your life from dying horrible violent deaths, can you?
Ned: Not many people ask for room 13. Jack: So it's available, yeah? Ned: Was you asked to ask for that number? Jack: Asked to ask? Ned: Were you? Jack: I'm asking you. Ned: Room 13... Jack: It's my lucky number. I'm a contrarian, you know? Ned: You either a contrarian or you're a victim.
Larson: Hmm. A Gideon Bible and a shovel in every room.
Jack: Kitty Cat's gotta go her own way. Cats are amazing animals though. Survive all sorts of terrible shit, and they always land up on their feet. Rivka: Not always.
[first lines] Jack: You want to tell me what this is all about? I mean, if you want me to protect this, don't you want me to know what it is? Dragna: No, I don't. Jack: Okay. Can I ask you a question? Dragna: Go ahead. Jack: In all due respect, why don't you just hire FedEx? Dragna: Because I'm hiring you, Jack. Jack: So, you want me to pick up this bag and bring it to you, and that's it? Dragna: I want to pay you an exorbitant amount of money to get the bag and bring it to me.
Dragna: You wouldn't shoot a man in the back, would you? Rivka: A man, no. But you're not a man.
Dragna: Distrust is a disease that kills a friendship.