Mr. French
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Quotes for
Mr. French (Character)
from The Departed (2006)

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The Departed (2006)
Mr. French: In the future, I tell ya to do a thing, you fucking do it, you got that?
Billy Costigan: I got it, okay?
Frank Costello: [sneaks up behind Costigan, snifffing] Excuse me, uh, French, I forgot my...
Mr. French: Okay, Francis.
Frank Costello: ...cigarette.
[puffs, slaps Costigan's shoulder]
Frank Costello: Eat something.

Bookie Harassed by French: I'm in the hole, I pay him two grand a week. There's no profit, I pay him two grand a week.
Mr. French: Well make more fuckin' money. This is America. You don't make money, then you're a fuckin' douchebag.
[pulls out gun]
Mr. French: Now what you ganna do?
[kicks him]
Bookie Harassed by French: I'll make more money!
Mr. French: That's the spirit!

Frank Costello: [talking about Costigan] Do you trust him?
Mr. French: Well these days, who's reliable?
Frank Costello: His uncle Jackie was. Yeah, you can't trust a guy acts like he's got nothing to lose.
Mr. French: I'm reliable.
Frank Costello: Arnold, you're one in a million.
Mr. French: Ten. Ten million.
Frank Costello: What about your wife, Arnold?
Mr. French: Well, I thought she was.
Frank Costello: [laughing] She wasn't!
Mr. French: Well, she got reliable.
[flashback showing French strangling his wife]

Frank Costello: I'm going to have my associate search you.
Billy Costigan: No, no one's fucking searching me. Searching me for what?
Frank Costello: Contra-fucking-band. Take your shoes off.
[French slams Costigan into a chair]
Mr. French: Shoes.
Frank Costello: [to Costigan] I knew your father.
Billy Costigan: Yeah? You know he's dead?
Frank Costello: Oh, sorry. How'd he go?
Billy Costigan: He didn't complain.
Frank Costello: Yeah, that was his problem.
Billy Costigan: Who said he had a problem?
Frank Costello: I just said he had a fucking problem. There's a man who could have been anything.
Billy Costigan: Are you trying to say he was nothing?
[French slams Costigan onto a pool table and continues his search]
Frank Costello: I'm saying he worked at the airport.

Frank Costello: Arm.
Billy Costigan: Arm? What fuckin' arm?
Mr. French: [French pulls Costigan to a pool table] Show me your arm. Flip it. mmhmmm, mmhmmm...
[French slams Costigan's arm on the table until the cast breaks, while Costigan screams in pain]
Frank Costello: It makes me curious to see you in this neighborhood. And if I can slander my own environment, it makes me sad. This, uh, regression. Plus, I don't know if it's beyond some fucking cop prick like Queenan to pull you out of the Staties and send you gift-wrapped to me. I just can't know. I wonder what they do in that particular department, anyway.
[Costello slams on Costigan's broken arm with Costigan's boot]
Frank Costello: [yelling] Are you still a cop?
Billy Costigan: [in severe pain] No!
[Costello whacks his arm again]
Frank Costello: [yelling] Swear on your mother's grave you're still not a cop?
Billy Costigan: [painfully] I'm not a fucking cop!
[Costello whacks his arm again, this time re-breaking it]
Frank Costello: [yelling] Are you going to stop doing coke deals with your jerk-off fucking cousin?
Billy Costigan: [weakly] Yes, yes, yes!
Frank Costello: Alright, alright. You're okay, you'll be alright. Get your hand taken care of.
[Costello throws down some money]
Frank Costello: I'm sorry, but it was necessary. As for our problem with Providence - let's not cry over some spilled guineas.

Billy Costigan: [to the bartender] Cranberry juice.
Man Glassed in Bar: It's a natural diuretic. My girlfriend drinks it when she's got her period. What, do you got your period?
[Billy grabs an empty glass and smashes it onto the man's head. Mr. French grabs Billy throws him against the wall. Billy tries to go towards the man again and French holds him against the wall. Billy pushes French's hands away]
Billy Costigan: Get your fuckin' hands off me!
Mr. French: [calmly] Hey, hey, hey... do you know me?
Billy Costigan: No, no.
Mr. French: Well, I'm the guy that tells you there are guys you can hit and there's guys you can't. Now, that's not quite a guy you can't hit, but it's almost a guy you can't hit. So I'm gonna make a fuckin' ruling on this right now. You don't fuckin' hit him. You understand?
Billy Costigan: Yeah, excellent. Fine, fine, fine.
Mr. French: I fucking know you. I know your family. You make one more drug deal with that idiot fucking cop-magnet of a cousin of yours and I'll forget your grandmother was so nice to me. I'll cut your fucking nuts off. You understand that?
Billy Costigan: Yeah, yeah, I do.
Mr. French: What are you drinkin'?
Billy Costigan: [embarrassed] A cranberry juice.
Mr. French: What is it, your period?
[to the bartender]
Mr. French: Get him a... cranberry juice.
Mr. French: [to the man] Hey, fuckhead, that's Jackie's nephew.
Man Glassed in Bar: Oh.
Mr. French: What? "Oh" fuckin' what?
[punches the man four times in the face]
Mr. French: Get the fuck outta here.

[upon learning the Police have found Delahunt's body and that he was a cop in Costello's bar]
Fitzy: I don't believe it.
Mr. French: What can't you believe?
Fitzy: I spent all fucking night dragging the poor bastard in there. Tell me how they find him so fast? Somebody walking a fucking dog ? What fucking size a dog is that? Has to be a big fucking dog, man. I spent all night doing it man.
[pause, Frank stares at him]
Fitzy: I'm embarrassed. I still don't believe he was a cop, I don't believe it.
Frank Costello: The COPS... are saying he's a cop... so I won't look for the cop. Are you soft, Fitz? When I tell you... to dump a body in the marsh, you dump him *IN* the marsh. Not where some guy from John Hancock goes every Thursday, TO GET A FUCKING BLOWJOB!
[Fitzy laughs, Frank hits him with his cap]
Frank Costello: Don't laugh! This ain't Reality TV!

[after driving his car into a large crate, and getting caught in the car]
Mr. French: Ah, fuck it.
[Shoots himself, the car explodes]

Frank Costello: [during a flashback] Jeez. She fell funny.
[chuckles at the dead bodies]
Mr. French: Francis, you really should see somebody.

Frank Costello: [in a car] Fucking rats. It's wearing me thin.
Mr. French: [while driving] Francis, it's a nation of fucking rats.