Gangs of New York

Gangs of New York quotes

53 total quotes (ID: 843)

Amsterdam Vallon
Bill the Butcher
Boss Tweed
Others


Boss Tweed: You killed an elected official?
Bill: Who elected him?
Boss Tweed: You don't know what you've done to yourself.
Bill: [taps his glass eye with a knife] I know your works. You are neither cold nor hot. So because you are lukewarm, I will spew you out of my mouth. You can build your filthy world without me. I took the father. Now I'll take the son. You tell young Vallon I'm gonna paint Paradise Square with his blood. Two coats. I'll festoon my bedchamber with his guts. As for you, Mr. Tammany-****ing-Hall, you come down to the Points again, and you'll be dispatched by my own hand. Get back to your celebration and let me eat in peace.


Boss Tweed: You may or may not know, Bill, that everyday I go down to the waterfront with hot soup for the Irish as they come ashore. Its part of building a political base.
Bill: I've noticed you there, you may have noticed me.
Boss Tweed: Indeed I have. Throwing torrents of abuse to every single person who steps off those boats.
Bill: [gleefully] If only I had the guns, Mr. Tweed, I'd shoot each and every one of them before they set foot on American soil.

Boss Tweed: You're a good one for the fighting, Bill. But you can't fight forever.
Bill: I can go down doing it.
Boss Tweed: And you will!
Bill: What did you say?
Boss Tweed: I said, you're turning your back on the future.
Bill: Not our future.

Happy Jack: I'm paid to uphold the law.
Bill: What in Heaven's name are you talking about?

Killoran: Monk's already won by three thousand more votes than there are voters.
Boss Tweed: Only three? Make it twenty, thirty. We don't need a victory. We need a Roman triumph.

Priest Vallon: St. Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protector against the snares and the wickedness of the devil. Now, son, who's that?
Young Amsterdam: St. Michael.
Priest Vallon: Who is it?
Young Amsterdam: St. Michael!
Priest Vallon: And what did he do?
Young Amsterdam: He cast Satan out of Paradise.
Priest Vallon: Good boy.

[as Monk McGinn runs for Sheriff]
Boss Tweed: That man was right born for this.
Amsterdam: He's killed 44 men, and laid low a couple hundred more.
Boss Tweed: Is that right? We should have run him for mayor.

[as an anti-draft riot takes place] Sweet Jesus, war does terrible things to people.

[Last words] Thank God. I die a true American.

A real native is someone who is willing to die fighting for his country. There's nothing more to it.

Burn him, see if his ashes turn green.

Don't mind him. He used to be an Irishman.

Ears and noses will be the trophies of the day. But no hand shall touch him.

Everything you see belongs to me, to one degree or another. The beggars and newsboys and quick thieves here in Paradise, the sailor dives and gin mills and blind tigers on the waterfront, the anglers and amusers, the she-hes and the Chinks. Everybody owes, everybody pays. Because that's how you stand up against the rising of the tide.

Fine waistcoat. Shame about it, I don't think it can be mended. Will I keep it as a souvenir?!