Parker: [torturing man with a bar stool] If you don't tell me what I need to know, I'm gonna press down on this chair until it crushes your trachea. Trust me, it's agonizing. Plus, there's the posthumous humiliation of having been killed with a chair.
Parker: [points the gun] Do what I say and you won't get hurt.
Jack: [tried to take out gun from holster] Mine's bigger than yours.
Parker: [shoots him in the leg] It's not the size. It's how you use it.
Parker: I don't steal from anyone who can't afford it, and I don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it.
Leslie Rodgers: Do you ever feel bad about what you do?
Parker: Everyone steals, Leslie. Some people admit it to themselves, some don't. It's what human beings do. That's why we invented locks.
Leslie Rodgers: I'm sick of chauffeuring these fucking entitled wannabe playboys who have never worked a day in their life. Showing them houses that I could never afford. Laughing at their jokes that I can't stand. All while fending off their gropes. But not all their gropes. Because you never know, one of these days I might just might get a full commission.
Leslie Rodgers: Are you crazy? You almost died! Well, you have a, a mangled hand, a broken rib!
Claire: Four this time.
Ascension: [under her breath] This is a real man.
James: I believe that man that we found on the side of the road that day, he weren't no man at all. He was an angel, sent here to test us.
Jake Fernandez: [after Leslie buys a large cup of coffee] Hey, you have a cupholder in your car, or you just keep that between your legs?
Leslie Rodgers: Well, it's large and black, Jake. Where do you think I like it?
Ascension: [Leslie signs for a package, opens it, and wads of currency fall out. Her mother calls out from upstairs] Leslie, who was that?
Leslie Rodgers: It's the mailman. Nothing but bills.