Bill Holt: I tried to page ya.
Lyndel: Oh, yeah, I just... I was a little tied up.
Bill Holt: By who?
Bill Holt: [to Nin] She always puts me on the hold. Does it... Is tha... Is... That's a bad sign isn't it?
Nin: I'm talking to Truman, you know as I said, and uh... you know he's telling me to ask you, uh... you know, how'd ya count it?
Bill Holt: [furious] How'd I count it? I checked it three times. Like I always check it.
Nin: Don't... I'm just telling you what he s...
Bill Holt: You sit on this fucking chair, and you're gonna look me dead in the eye...
Nin: Look, calm down...
Bill Holt: [yells] And you're gonna fucking ask me how I counted it! You shut your fuckin' mouth, motherfucker, or I'll take your goddam head right off your fuckin' body, you hear me!
Nin: I should have seen it coming. We all should have seen it coming. But like they say, it's the bullet you don't see that kills you.
Sean Rickhart: [to Danny] Finish him up, I want a little trim.
Mo: You want a little trim? Probably you didn't wash your dick yet.
Mo: I used to write poems. I'd write poems, right, instead of talking to people. Write poems, never show 'em to nobody.
Maria: Why not?
Mo: 'Cause I was embarrassed.
Danny: 'Cause he thought he might kill somebody if they laughed at him.
Connie: He's serious.
Lyndel: They would have invited you if they wanted you here, Bill.
Mic: Bill, she's right. They're all talking about you, they're pissed off.
Bill Holt: Well, let them talk. Didn't you know talk was a form of flattery?
Carter: Not if they call you an asshole.
Robbo: [to Bill Holt] Hey, hey, hey, Ankles, look, even though you're not wanted here, the least you could do is respect the rules of the house. You know what the rules of the house are. Gimme your piece.
Lyndel: Don't worry, Robbo, I'll make sure he keeps it in his pants, okay?
Mo: Round and round and round she goes. Where she stops, nobody knows.