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: You still drinking? Jack Taylor
: You're still smoking. Father Malachy
: Me and Bette Davis. Jack Taylor
: She's dead. Father Malachy
: My point exactly.
: [meeting Jack at a road intersection
] Ah, Jack! Great news, I gave up smoking. Jack Taylor
: And I gave up drinking.
[they move along in opposite directions, Father Malachy takes another pull at his cigarette
: Ah Jack, I know your father; Paddy, Paddy Taylor, man of subtlety and taste, is he not? Jack Taylor
: He had his moments. Passerby
: One deduces, from the use of the past tense, that he is no longer with us.
: Or worse, in England.
: How come, no matter how long since you've seen the family, nor how much distance you've put between you, they can always push your buttons? Answer: because they installed them.
: My father used to say: "Your mother means well". She didn't. Not then. Not ever.
: I want that diary, Jack. Jack Taylor
: Over my dead body.
[Cassell's henchman Casey produces a large revolver and hands it to Cassell
] Jack Taylor
: I meant that metaphorically. Sorry, Casey, big word.
: How is she? Your mam, I mean. Jack Taylor
: Doing jigs and reels. She's had a stroke, how do you think she is? Cody Farraher
: You want to talk about it? Jack Taylor
: I'm an Irish male. I've got one coping mechanism: repression.
: Let me be really clear so I don't have to repeat myself: I don't need a partner. And even if I did I would pick someone whose balls had actually dropped. Cody Farraher
: Meaning, you'd like to think about it? Jack Taylor
: Meaning, I want you to fuck off and never show your face again.
: [Places glass of clear liquid in front of Jack
] Local poteen. Tears away the cobwebs. Leaves you clean and pure. Jack Taylor
: Sounds like a drain cleaner. Ted Buckley
: That's what we do. Clear the dirt from the drains. Jack Taylor
: Vigilante plumbers, eh?