Charles Bronson: [Real Life Charles Bronson Quote] How would you feel, waking up in the morning without a window? My window is a steel grid, I 'ave to put my lips against that steel grid and suck in air, that's my morning... 'cause I got no air in my cell. I have to eat, sleep and crap in that room twenty-three hours of a twenty-four hour day. You tell me, what human being deserves that? Apart from the stinking paedophile or a child killer. I don't deserve that, I done nothing on this planet to deserve that. My bed is four inches off the floor, it's a concrete bed, my toilet hasn't even got a seat on it or a lid, and I 'ave to live like this month after month after month, and the way it's looking it's year after year after year. Now is that's right then so be, but let somebody else 'ave a fucking go at it, 'cause I've had twenty-six years of this bollocks and it's time to come out, and I want the jury at my trail to come and see how I'm living. But I'm not living, I'm existing.
Charles Bronson: [to the prison officer he's ordering to rub vaseline on his naked body] On my arse.
[officer starts rubbing it on]
Charles Bronson: Not in my arse, you fuckin' homo!
Charles Bronson: [Bronson getting paid after his first fight] 20 quid? You're having a fucking laugh, ain't cha?
Paul: Oh spare me the Oliver Twist routine, Charlie love. You need to build your audience.
Charles Bronson: I gave you fucking magic in there!
Paul: Magic? You just pissed on a gypsy in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Charles Bronson: You don't want to be trapped inside with me sunshine. Inside, I'm somebody nobody wants to fuck with do you understand? I am Charlie Bronson, I am Britain's most violent prisoner.
Charles Bronson: You shouldn't mess with boys that are bigger than you.
Charles Bronson: [Desperately trying to escape from an insane asylum, Bronson meets a patient named John White who reveals that he is a child rapist. Disgusted by pedophiles and wanting to go back to prison, he unsuccessfully tries to kill White by strangulation before carried off by guards]
[Scene change, Bronson walks onto a theater stage set in his sub-conscious mind]
Charles Bronson: I would now like to reenact what I call, "When Murder Goes Wrong".
[Bronson as himself, right side facing audience]
Charles Bronson: When do I go back?
Charles Bronson (as nurse): [Bronson whips around, revealing stage make-up of a female nurse's face on his left side]
[effeminate voice and body language]
Charles Bronson (as nurse): Now now, Mr. Peterson, we aren't going to start up all that silliness again, are we?
Charles Bronson: [whips back around to Bronson, now aggravated] Listen, Nursey, I just wanna know when my trial is and when I head back to the slammer... 'right?
Charles Bronson (as nurse): [Nurse points at Bronson in a scolding manner] WRONG, Mr. Peterson! Now let's not play sillybuggers, eh? I'll just have to pop you in the botty with one of my special potions, mmm?
Charles Bronson: [Bronson pauses, breathes heavily] When's my trial?
Charles Bronson (as nurse): [Nurse wags finger in a condescending manner] Ah-ah-ah-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk, no. Mr. White recovered, dear. There's no trial!
Charles Bronson (as nurse): Isn't that wonderful? However, you are being moved.
Charles Bronson: [Bronson calms down] ... Where?
Charles Bronson (as nurse): [giggles, nods, and claps ecstatically] YES, Mr. Peterson! Broadmore Asylum for the criminally insane!
Charles Bronson: [Bronson becomes frustrated again] I deserve to go back to prison for what I did. I want my hotel room back!
Charles Bronson (as nurse): [Nurse] Well, I'm sure you'll find yourself some solitary...
[Bronson turns back to audience and bows; end of scene]
Charles Bronson: Right! That's enough! He's had enough, come on, get him out of here! Go on and get him the fuck out of here, he's had enough! Come on! You fucking cunts! No class next week. Right!
Charles Bronson: Now hang on to your fillings. Alright? 'Cause it's going to get fucking Leary.
Paul: All you need is a name.
Charles Bronson: What's wrong with Mickey Peterson.
Paul: You need a fighting name, like a movie star.
Charles Bronson: Charlton Heston.
Paul: Look, love. No one gives a toss about Charlton Heston. The man's a cunt. You're more of the Charles Bronson type.
Charles Bronson: To a terrified woman in a jewellery shop: "Don't fucking move! Or I'll kill you. Alright?"