I was just wondering if you could tell me, um, if you thought drugs and alcohol would make me a better writer.
A writer writes, always.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
That’s a fact, Jack!
No, sir, just a little anxious to get up there and whup E.T.'s ass, that’s all.
*But what is evil anyway?
Is there reason to the rhyme?
Without evil there can be no good
So it must be good to be evil sometimes!
Up there - there is so much room
Where babies burp and flowers bloom
Everyone dreams, I can dream too
Up there - up where the skies are ocean blue
I can be safe and live without a care
Live without a care…
If only I could live up there!*
I’m telling you this guy is protected from up on high by the Prince of Darkness.
Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. And it was tribute, just like in the old country, except they were doing it here in America. And all they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. And that’s what it’s all about. That’s what the FBI could never understand. That what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can’t go to the cops. That’s it. That’s all it is. They’re like the police department for wiseguys.
Oh, a wise guy, huh?
Oh, they’ll find some dumb son of a bitch to bring it up.
It’s not easy being a cast-iron bitch. It takes discipline, and years of training. A lot of people don’t appreciate that.
I’ve worked too hard for too long to get here, and I’m not risking it all for someone who got lucky, got it?
In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck.
Never tell me the odds.
As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we’ve done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast. Out of curiosity, why do you ask?
I don’t remember askin’ you a goddamn thing! You were saying?
Just looking for what’s coming…
Where did you come up with the scratch for that? You’ve been rolling fags in the Village again, haven’t you?
Excuse me for speaking so bluntly sir. But those fags make me want to puke my fucking guts out.
And they won’t say nowt about your personality neither. Which is good 'cause you’re basically a bastard. Bollocks to your personality - this is what they’re looking at, right? And I’ll tell you summat, mate. Anti-wrinkle cream there may be, but anti-fat-bastard cream there is none.