Angel Heart (1987)
Louis Cyphre: Alas... how terrible is wisdom when it brings no profit to the wise, Johnny?
Louis Cyphere: No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror, your reflection always looks you straight in the eye.
Louis Cyphre: They say there's enough religion in the world to make men hate each other, but not enough to make them love.
Louis Cyphre: The flesh is weak, Johnny. Only the soul is immortal.
Louis Cyphre: And yours belongs to ME.
Harry Angel: Hey, you ever watch the Mickey Mouse Club? 'Cause you know what today... today is? Today is Wednesday. It's anything can happen day.
Harry Angel: You're crazy. I know who I am. You're trying to frame me. You're trying to frame me. Cyphre, I know who I am. You murdered them people. I never killed nobody. I didn't kill Fowler, and... and I didn't kill Toots, and I didn't kill Margaret, and I didn't kill Krusemark, I didn't kill no-one!
Louis Cyphre: I'm afraid you did, Johnny.
Harry Angel: My name's not Johnny!
Louis Cyphre: All killed by your own hand. Guided by me naturally. Frankly, you were doomed from the moment you slit that young boy in half, Johnny... for twelve years you've been living on borrowed time and another men's memories.
Harry Angel: Hey I wanna tell Winesap cause he knows.
Louis Cyphre: Winesap? Oh he's dead. Nasty accident. Don't worry. No-one will mourn one less lawyer in the world - there's death everywhere these days Johnny. But what gives human life its worth... anyway? Because someone loves it, hates it? The flesh is weak, Johnny. Only the soul is immortal. And yours belongs to ME.
Harry Angel: I gotta thing about chickens.
Harry Angel: She was doing my chart. I gave her Johnny's birthdate, February 14th. Except someone got to her and took out their own Valentine card. They split her open, and they cut out her heart. I guess she couldn't predict the future for herself.
Louis Cyphre: The future isn't what it used to be Mr. Angel.
Louis Cyphre: You know what they say about slugs. They always leave slime in their tracks.
Louis Cyphre: I have old-fashioned ideas about honour. An eye for an eye... stuff like that.
Harry Angel: What's your name?
Epiphany Proudfoot: Epiphany Proudfoot.
Harry Angel: Your mother left you a very beautiful name, Epiphany.
Epiphany Proudfoot: Not much else.
Louis Cyphre: You know, some religions think that the egg is the symbol of the soul, did you know that?
Harry Angel: No, I didn't know that.
Louis Cyphre: Would you like an egg?
Harry Angel: No thank you, I got a thing about chickens.
[Louis takes a bit out of an egg with a dangerous look on his face]
Louis Cyphre: Mephistopheles can be a mouthful in Manhattan, Johnny.
Harry Angel: [to Izzy as he is lounging on a deserted beach at Coney Island, in what must be early Autumn] Listen. What do you do around here in the summertime?
Izzy: I bite the heads off rats.
Harry Angel: What do you do in the winter?
Izzy: The same.
Pastor John: I want you to show right now how much you love God! I want you to show as your tithe! I want you to open up your hearts! And open up your wallets! And open up your purses! And give it up! Praise the Lord! Somebody's been talking about me, talking about I've been riding around in a Cadillac! If you love me, and you wanna give to me, then I should be in a Rolls Royce!
Pastor John: Hallelujah! Permit me to be transmittable, Hallelujah! Permit me to be reincarnatable, Hallelujah! Permit me to be reproducible, Hallelujah! For His Kingdom is yours! Today! Right now! Follow me! Follow me! Follow me through His peace! Yes! Oh Hallelujah!
Harry Angel: [shouting] Who was the boy?
Harry Angel: Winesap. You want his number? You want his address? Ask Tess Trueheart over there. It's in the book he's flipping through. It's under "W" genius.
Det. Deimos: You know Ted Williams the baseball player?
Harry Angel: Yeah.
Dr. Albert Fowler: Who are you? How'd you get in here?
Harry Angel: Through the mail slot. I'm a private detective.
Harry Angel: Louis Cyphre. Lucifer. Even your name is a dime store joke.
Harry Angel: [to Detectives Sterne and Delmos] Hey, only cops and bad news don't knock.
Epiphany Proudfoot: Hey, what are you after him for? Johnny Favorite.
Harry Angel: I'm not really after him. I'm just bein' paid to find out where he is.
Epiphany Proudfoot: He could be six feet under.
Harry Angel: Then I'll have to buy a shovel.