Avi: Eighty-six carats.
Rosebud: Where?
Avi: London.
Rosebud: London?
Avi: London.
Avi's Colleague: London?
Avi: Yes, London. You know: fish, chips, cup 'o tea, bad food, worse weather, Mary fucking Poppins... LONDON.
Avi: You got a toothbrush? We're going to London. Do you hear that, Doug? I'm coming to London.
[Avi Londra'ya gelir]
Doug the Head: Avi!
Avi: Shut up and sit down, you big, bald fuck. I don't like leaving my own country, Doug, and I especially don't like leaving it for anything less then warm sandy beaches, and cocktails with little straw hats.
Doug the Head: We've got sandy beaches...
Avi: So? Who the fuck wants to see 'em?
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Turkish: Fuck me, hold tight. What's that?
Tommy: It's me belt, Turkish.
Turkish: No, Tommy. There's a gun in your trousers. What's a gun doing in your trousers?
Tommy: It's for protection.
Turkish: Protection from what? "Zee Germans"?
Customs official: Do you have anything to declare, sir?
Avi: Yeah. Don't go to England.
Tyrone: I didn't see it.
Vinny: It's a two fucking ton van Tyrone. Its not as though its a bag of fucking peanuts now is it?
Tyrone: It was at a funny angle.
[All three turn and look back at the truck]
Vinny: It's behind you Tyrone. When you reverse, things come at you from behind.
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