- Carl Hickman: [interrupting a husband/wife disagreement] Hey, why don't you just leave her alone, pal?
- Rude Guy: Why don't you mind your own business? Hey, you got a problem? Go to hell.
- Carl Hickman: You want to know something about yourself? I'll tell you something about yourself. You've got soft hands and no muscle tone, which marks you for white-collar, but your eyes have no spark of intelligence, and you obviously can't decipher a simple sign. So guess what? You're not management. My guess is you're a drone. You're a worker-bee. Top buttonhole's pulled wide and frayed. You're fatter than you used to be, and you can't afford a new shirt. You're not even a successful worker-bee. But maybe there's another reason that you can't afford a new shirt. Huh? It's a girlfriend, yeah?
- [his wife gasps]
- Tommy McConnel: You're no smarter than me, super-detective.
- Carl Hickman: You're an angry guy, Tommy. That's gonna get in your way.
- Tommy McConnel: You saying you're not angry?
- Carl Hickman: I'm saying the last person in the world you want to end up like is me.
- Cop: Commissaire Laveaux of the crime squad is calling him another ripper, like the one in London.
- Carl Hickman: There's a difference. This one's gonna be caught.