Nao nao nao... eu sou mesmo muita mau...
Max : How did your father die?
Vincent : I killed him. I was twelve.
[laughs]
Vincent : Just kidding. Liver disease.
[last lines]
Vincent : Guy gets on the MTA here in L.A. and dies; think anyone will notice?
[discussing two policemen who have pulled Max over]
Vincent : If they open that trunk, they're going inside it.
Max : I'm sorry.
Felix : Sorry? Sorry does not put humpty dumpty back together again.
Vincent : Max, six billion people on the planet, you're getting bent out of shape cause of one fat guy.
Max : Well, who was he?
Vincent : What do you care? Have you ever heard of Rwanda?
Max : Yes, I know Rwanda.
Vincent : Well, tens of thousands killed before sundown. Nobody's killed people that fast since Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Did you bat an eye, Max?
Max : What?
Vincent : Did you join Amnesty International, Oxfam, Save the Whales, Greenpeace, or something? No. I off one fat Angelino and you throw a hissy fit.
Max : Man, I don't know any Rwandans.
Vincent : You don't know the guy in the trunk, either.
Vincent : Most people - same job, same gig, doing the same thing 10 years from now. Us, we don't know what we are doing 10 minutes from now.
Vincent : [pulls a gun on Max] Red light, Max.
P.S: é verdade... há café ?