Top 150 Quotes From Cillian Murphy

Thomas: So is this why you came here? All this way in person, for my fucking signature?
May: You... have lost your wife, and now your brother too. I thought it would make you different, but it doesn't seem to change you. Nothing seems to change you.

Grace: Here it comes, Tommy.
Grace: I love you.
Tommy: And there it goes, Grace. Away it Goes...

Thomas: As you can see, my natural side of the barricades is the same as yours, and as you know, I once believed.
Jessie: But the war changed you.
Thomas: Yeah.
Jessie: The man I loved couldn't speak when he got back, not one word.
Thomas: I've said very few true words since.

Tommy: Get yourself a decent haircut, man. We're going to the races.

Lenny: [guns drawn on each other] Let me help her, Tchenkov.
Alex: What makes you think she needs your help?
[as agents start surrounding them]
Lenny: She gonna die.
Alex: We're all going to die one day.

Thomas: You can change what you do, but you can't change what you want.

- One of the friends is a man.
- He would die without his eyes.
- These hands belong to the devil!
- By the time that baby draws its first breath, you and I will be done.
Thomas: You will be king.

Tommy: Grace... everyone in my family hates me.

Tommy: Do you have a map? Because I'm not going to be able to find my way in the dark. You see, at midnight, I'm going to leave my wing and I'm going to come find you. And I'm going to turn the handle of your bedroom door without making a sound and none of the maids will know.

Oswald: We have a mutual acquaintance. May Carleton. When I asked about you, she said, 'Oh, my goodness, where do I begin?'
Thomas: And why were you asking after me?
Oswald: Because, as I have said, I adore dangerous.

Thomas: Good morning, Mr. Solomons.
Alfie: Yeah, it is. Nice little place you got here, Thomas. What is it, a foreclosure of a gambling debt from some poor young lord who you pumped full of opium in one of your casinos, or is that just tittle-tattle?
Thomas: Drink?
Alfie: No, I don't touch it, mate. Your housekeeper said you're not allowed to drink. Eh? She said you're suffering from so many ancient injuries from your sporting life that your head is like some sort of smashed vase what has been stuck back together by an 'orse.

Thomas: If you have to pull a gun on Linda, do it. Merry Christmas.

Thomas: We need Luca Changretta dead. That's it.

[talking about assassinating Mosley]
Alfie: How much you payin'?
Thomas: Thought you might do it for the cause, Alfie.
Alfie: Oh, fuck off.
Thomas: Each man will get 20 pound. You'll get 5,000.
Alfie: You know, as a god, Tommy, right, I am now able to just rise above those kinds of insults, mate.
Thomas: Ten?
Alfie: How is my dog?
Thomas: Your dog is fine.
Alfie: In that case, ten should be enough. Where do you want the men?
Thomas: Birmingham.
Alfie: No, no. 20 will not be enough for my lads to step inside that fucking shithole. It'll have to be 25 at least.
Thomas: 25 it is. You can take your dog back, then, eh?
Alfie: No, it is better for him to think that I am still dead. As is also with the police. Right. So you're still at it, eh, Tommy? Mmm. Ain't got no Margate to go to. Tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk.
Thomas: No. And I have no interest in shooting seagulls.
Alfie: Oh, but you have in shooting Cabinet ministers?
Thomas: Yeah. And their paid informants.
Alfie: Hm. I was on a lot of drugs at first, right, due to the pain, you know, on account of, well, you know, bein' shot in the face by some cunt. I won't bore you with the details, it'd chill you. Nonetheless, I had a recurring dream. I saw you in a field, right, with a big black horse, and you said, "Goodbye," and then, bang.
[pause]
Alfie: All right, then. Well... what now?
[pause]
Thomas: I will continue... 'til I find a man that I can't defeat.

Churchill: You prefer Irish to Scotch?
Thomas: Yes, Mr. Churchill.
Churchill: Irish over Scotch. Cigarettes over Havana cigars. And your mother was probably born in a tent.
Thomas: Grandmother in a tent. Me mother on a narrowboat.
Churchill: And always happy to give smart answers to men born better than you.
Thomas: A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate. See, I don't have one, so they mean very little to me.

Alfie: What have you heard, Alfie?
Alfie: I heard a cop got shot. Who shot him?
Thomas: My kestrel.
Alfie: Right, oh, up the stakes, very good.
Thomas: Where are the Sicilians?
Alfie: They're still using Sabini for vehicles and for places to stay.
Thomas: Mm-hmm. And reinforcements?
Alfie: Ah, no, they're Sicilians, aren't they, they don't trust nobody who ain't fucked a goat on the morning of their first pubic hair, they've got traditions.
Thomas: How many are here?
Alfie: Eleven. Enough to drop a man who wrapped his balls in an O.B.E., 'til they fell off.
Thomas: The real question is, Alfie... which side are you playing for, eh?
Alfie: [chuckling] Fucking hell. What kind of world is it to bring up children when your own mate can ask you that question, eh? But the truth is, Tommy, you're gonna be fucking dead soon, yeah? And then your starlings, right, they will peck out your blue eyes, won't they? And the jackdaws, they will steal your gold and your medals, and pretty soon it'll be as if you never even fucking happened, mate.

Niall: Before you, I was an ordinary working man.
Thomas: Yeah. And now you're one of us.

Grace: How much did you pay for the suit you'll be wearing?
Thomas: Oh, I don't pay for suits. My suits are on the house or the house burns down.

Thomas: Look, I'll throw in an extra three quid for your extra time.
Grace: You think I'm a whore!
Thomas: Everyone's a whore, Grace. We just sell different parts of ourselves.

Tommy: Will you help me?
Grace: Help you with what?
Tommy: With everything. The whole fucking thing. Fucking life, business. I found you. And you found me. We'll help each other.

Philippe: Timekeeper. After this regrettable incident it's really not necessary for you to come in person.
Raymond: I'm afraid it really *is*... Necessary.
Philippe: When can we hope for a rescue?
Raymond: I believe that's the point; she doesn't appear to want to be rescued.
Philippe: Mr Leon... Raymond. May I call you Raymond?
[Leon doesn't respond]
Philippe: I blame myself. I invited the man into my home. He had so much time, how was I supposed to know? Of course, Sylvia brought this on herself by her lack of vigilance. That's why I always tried to keep her close. But she is clearly under Will Salas's control.
[Leon still doesn't respond. Weis examines his arm with a clock on it]
Philippe: If it's a matter of resources, I'm... happy to make a contribution. It's a scandal what we pay our Timekeepers.
Raymond: [Leon nods lightly in apparent agreement] I have issued a warrant for your daughter's arrest. If she contacts you and you assist her in any way, I will issue a warrant for your arrest.
Philippe: [Weis stands up from behind his desk, looking slightly displeased] There's nothing I cannot buy. Now, how many of my years do you want?
Raymond: There aren't enough years, even in your lifetime, Mr. Weis. Goodnight.

Jessie: I've researched you. *We* have researched you. You've never been a friend of the government. They've used you. Now I image you've found out already that no amount of money allows you to pass through the steel sheets that separate class from class.
Thomas: Yes, yes that I have learned.

Arthur: Where are you? It bloody won! Monaghan Boy bloody won!
Thomas: Yeah. It won. And word will spread. So the next time we do the powder trick, it wont be just the Garrison that'll bet on the horse, it'll be the whole of Small Heath. And you know what? The horse will win again. And the third time we do it, we'll have the whole of Birmingham betting on it. A 1000 quid bet on the magic horse. And that time, when we are ready, the horse will lose. Think about it.

Ada: [Hands Tommy a Christmas present] This one is for you.
Thomas: What's this? A time machine?
Ada: My God, Tommy Shelby, is that regret?

Alfie: Come on, Tommy, there is an honorable reason now to pull that trigger, so what...
Thomas: Alfie! Alfie, look at me!
Alfie: Fucking get on with it!

Leslie: What do we call the test?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Batter my heart, three-person'd God.
Leslie: What?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Trinity.

Thomas: Did Arthur explain?
Charles: He said it's God's will. But you're not God.
Charles: [Walks away]
Thomas: No, I'm not God. Not yet.

Tommy: You don't parlay when you're on the back foot. We'll strike a blow back first.

Ada: How much opium do you have left?
Thomas: Seven tons.
Ada: Seven tons?
Thomas: Yeah, i would hate for it to run out.

Kitty: Can you explain quantum mechanics to me?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Well, this glass, this drink, this counter top, uhh.. our bodies, all of it. It's mostly empty space. Groupings of tiny energy waves bound together.
Kitty: By what?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Forces of attraction strong enough to convince us
[that]
J. Robert Oppenheimer: matter is solid, to stop my body passing through yours.
[gently places his palm against hers]

[talking about assassinating Mosley]
Alfie: Why do you want to shoot him?
Thomas: I need to organise a riot, Alfie.
Alfie: All right.
Thomas: And I hear you still have some... standing... in the Jewish community.
Alfie: Let me be clear, all right? Since my resurrection, I am considered to be a god, all right? In the Holy Land, someone has made an image of me out of rock embedded in the sand, so I am told, and I am planning to make a pilgrimage to stand in my own shadow.
[pause]
Alfie: Are you gonna shoot him because this man is evil?
Thomas: I need men who can fight. Mosley uses men from Glasgow, so if the men causing the trouble are Jewish, it will be... explicable.
Alfie: Since when do you need explanations, Tommy?
Thomas: Since I entered politics.
Alfie: Oh, that's right, yeah, oh, yeah. And how has that been for you, Tom?
Thomas: Gangs, wars, truces. Nothing I didn't already know.
[Alfie snores sarcastically]
Alfie: So if you, if you kill him, you, you will kill the message, yeah?
Thomas: I will kill the man. Then I will kill the message.

Thomas: That's the language of vendetta. They took one of ours, we take two of theirs.

The: Boo!
[sprays a dose of fear toxin at Batman]
The: Aw, having trouble?
[Batman starts hallucinating and tumbles backward into an easy chair]
The: Take a seat. Have a drink.
[splashes Batman with alcohol]
The: You look like a man who takes himself too seriously.
[produces a lighter and lights it]
The: Do you want my opinion? You need to lighten up.
[tosses the lighter at Batman, setting him on fire]

Thomas: When you plan something well there's no need to rush.

Thomas: Whisky's good proofing water. Tells you who's real and who isn't.

Thomas: The one minute. The soldier's minute. In a battle, that's all you get. One minute of everything at once. And anything before is nothing. Everything after, nothing. Nothing in comparison to that one minute.

Churchill: You speak beautifully in the House.
Thomas: Thank you.
Churchill: And believe not a word of what you are saying.
Thomas: Conviction introduces emotion, which is the enemy of oratory.
Churchill: You read Greek literature.
Thomas: I have trouble sleeping. Is there a reason for your visit, Mr. Churchill?
Churchill: You are forming an alliance with a fascist. So, I made some inquiries amongst the worst people in Whitehall, and I found out that you are not forming an alliance with him at all. You are spying on him.
Thomas: Yes.
Churchill: Why?
Thomas: The honest answer is... I'm no longer sure.
Churchill: Do you dig your own garden, Mr. Shelby?
Thomas: I have a gardener. In fact, I have three gardeners. Three generations of men with no ambition, who are happier than I will ever be.
Churchill: Well, if you ask them, they will tell you that there are certain species of weed. No matter how much you tug at them, poison them, they continue to grow back. In the end, the only solution is to plough up the topsoil, create a field of mud, and blow up and burn the exposed taproots. That's what you and I did in France. But when I hear that man Mosley speak, I see the green shoots of another war growing up around his feet. And you see exactly the same thing I do. That's why you oppose him. Yeah. Your mystery, solved. What is your strategy?
Thomas: I won't burden you with it.
Churchill: You're going to break the law.
Thomas: [sighs] I need to sleep.
Churchill: You said you don't sleep.
Thomas: I said I have trouble sleeping.
Churchill: As do I... as do I. Mr. Shelby, I have no doubts that there was once a time in Flanders, when you were under the ground and I was above it, both working to the same end. We are in the same exact situation here in Westminster. Do what you have to do, Mr. Shelby. And if you need anything, call me.
Thomas: There are some times, some nights... when I don't see the point of carrying on with any of it.
Churchill: Hmm. That old dance routine. I put out a cigar, and an hour later, I want another. Sometimes the bridge between hours is as fragile as that. But use it anyway. A tent, then a boat, then a house, now a mansion. It's something, isn't it?
Thomas: Yeah. It is something.

Thomas: I once told you, Alfie, that for business reasons, or in bad blood, I would kill you. I have no business reasons. It seems you have retired.
Alfie: So is it all purely for bad blood, is it, Tommy?

Thomas: That's funny, don't you think? A war about peace.

Thomas: I'm not a traitor to my class... I'm just an extreme example of what a working man can achieve.

Thomas: Good morning Alfie.
Alfie: Yeah, it is, it is. Why is everybody in fucking bed?

Niels: The important thing isn't can you read music, it's can you hear it. Can you hear the music, Robert?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Yes, I can.

Thomas: I'll pour you some gin that I made myself. My father's recipe. Distilled for the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness.

Aunt: This is when he was with the fathers.
Thomas: This is when he was in the care of the holy fathers. Michael wants it so you don't know.
Aunt: That preist.
Thomas: That preist, who was there when he was taking it. And who is still walking the fucking earth.
Aunt: Fuck. Fuck.
Thomas: He asked me Pol. And I said yes. And I said, you put a bullet, in that fuckers brains. By order of the Peaky Blinders.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: [From the first trailer] We imagine a future, and our imaginings horrify us.

Thomas: All religion is a foolish answer to a foolish question.

Niels: The power you are about to reveal will forever outlive the Nazis, and the world is not prepared.
J. Robert Oppenheimer: You can't lift the stone without being ready for the snake that's revealed.
Niels: We have to make the politicians understand, this isn't a new weapon, it is a new world.

Harry: I hear you're leaving Los Alamos. What should we do with it?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Give it back to the Indians.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: I don't know if we can be trusted with such a weapon. But I know the Nazis can't.

Tommy: She's in the past. The past is not my concern. The future is no longer my concern, either.

Aunt: We also contacted a businessman in Chicago. He's also interested in moving into the liquor business in New York.
Thomas: His name's Alphonse Capone.

Tommy: After today, there'll be no need for prayers. We'll be set.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: Since when are you British?
Klaus: Since Hitler told me I wasn't German.

- Come, brother.
- Let me give you the good news.
- Jesus loves you.
- So, where the fuck is he?
Thomas: All right, boys.
- A subsidiary meeting of the generation that actually do the work.

Thomas: You read the papers, Alfie?
Alfie: No, don't be silly.
[he casually pulls out a pistol, cocks it, and aims it at Tommy]
Thomas: But you've heard.
Alfie: What, fascism, yeah?
Thomas: Three... two... one... bang.
[Alfie doesn't shoot]
Thomas: No? All right.
[Alfie lowers his gun]
Alfie: Good Lord, your fucking condition has got worse, mate. Mine, on the other hand, I, I've been livin' the dream. Sometimes I will shoot at the side of a ship, and sometimes I'll sit here, I may shoot at the ol' seagull.
Thomas: Alfie... I'm gonna shoot Oswald Mosley.
Alfie: Right, well, I hope you do a better job on him than the one you done on me, yeah? I mean, what, what were you thinkin'? Was your mind somewhere else, Tommy?
Thomas: Yes, it was, actually.
Alfie: Yeah. All right. Oh, look. A ship.
[he makes a show of looking through his binoculars]

Thomas: So tell me the truth.
May: The truth? You're unlike any man I've ever met.
Thomas: And the gin?
May: Too sweet.

Frances: Mr Shelby, you're meant to be resting.
Thomas: I've learned something, Frances. There is no rest for me in this world. Perhaps, in the next.

Tommy: Well, he told fortunes and he stole horses. Often he would tell a man that his horse would be stolen, and they would marvel at his powers when it was.

Tommy: I'm a fair man. It's a fair offer. Do we have a deal?... I need an answer, right now.
Inspector: Very well... but I'd prefer if we don't shake hands on it.
Tommy: Now why would I shake the hand of a man who didn't even fight for his country?

Fischer: Couldn't somebody have dreamt up a goddamn beach?

Thomas: In the bleak midwinter.

Thomas: There is no rest for me in this world. Perhaps in the next.

Thomas: Can you make a toast?
Grace: I'm Irish, I can make a million toasts. May you be in Heaven a full half-hour before the devil knows you're dead.

Michael: Are you coming back?
Thomas: Nothing to come back to.

Arthur: You think we can take on the Chinese and Billy Kimber. Billy's got a bloody army...
Tommy: I think, Arthur. That's what I do. I think. So that you don't have to.

Arthur: So, who are we meeting?
Thomas: The man we're about the meet is the Minister for the Duchy of Lancaster. He's also deputy to the Chancellor of the Exchequer and Cabinet adviser to the Prime Minister of Great Britain. You've both met bad men before. The man we're about to meet is the devil.

[Tommy meets Luca for the first time]
Luca: I heard you had trouble. It's good of you to see me.
Thomas: You just came from Paris, eh?
[Luca sits down at the table, totally at ease]
Luca: You know Paris?
Thomas: I left Paris in a cattle truck. They said you were French.
Luca: [smiling] Well, I came here from Paris. That does not mean I'm French. Guess where I'm from.
[Tommy reaches into a coat hanging on a stand and pulls out his cigarettes, leaving his gun easily accessible]
Thomas: [while lighting a cigarette] Well, in my cattle truck in Paris, there were American soldiers. We played cards. They sound like you.
Luca: Yeah? Did you win?
Thomas: You didn't come on a train. Your suit is pressed. Your shoes are clean. Where do you get your suits made?
Luca: I have a tailor. In New York City.
[he opens his coat, displaying the label]
Luca: Look. Fenacci. Italian. Hm. That's my uncle. He makes suits in a basement on Mott Street. He is my uncle, so every stitch, stitched with blood. I heard you dress well, Mr. Shelby. But now I see... not so well as me.
[Tommy silently regards him for a moment]
Thomas: You know, I have uncles as well. But they're not the sort of men who would, uh... who would work in a basement with a needle and thread... Mr. Changretta.
Luca: [smiling] I am surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you.
[Tommy pulls his gun out of his coat, cocks it, and points it at Luca]
Thomas: And now?
Luca: [unfazed] And now... and now you should know that during the trouble you had earlier on your factory floor, I sent an accomplice into your office, in overalls. He found your gun...
[he reaches into his coat pocket, pulls out a handful of bullets, and lets them drop from one hand to the other]
Luca: ... and unloaded it.
[Tommy checks the clip in his gun in shock, realizing that Luca is telling the truth. Slowly and deliberately, Luca sets the bullets on the table, one at a time]
Luca: Arthur Shelby. Polly Gray. Michael Gray. John Shelby.
[he tips one bullet over and flicks it across the table at Tommy]
Luca: Spent.
[he continues setting bullets on the table]
Luca: Ada Thorne. And finally... Tommy Shelby. Huh.
[he stands up and walks over to Tommy]
Luca: [grimly] None of you will survive. Your level of security is pitiful. And we are an organisation... of a different dimension. I coulda killed you when I walked through the door. But, you see... I want you to be the last. I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead... 'cause, my mother says, that is what'll hurt you the most. You people have traditions of honour. As do we. Instead of sendin' you a black hand, I coulda had you killed in the night, without knowin' why... but I WANT you to know why. And I wanna suggest to you that we fight this vendetta with honour.
[Tommy thinks for a moment, then sets his gun down]
Thomas: No civilians. No children.
Luca: [wagging his finger at Tommy] No police.
Thomas: Welcome to Birmingham, Mr. Changretta.
Luca: Grazie.

Thomas: Always have your whores searched at the door.
Finn: [to Chang] If I see that bitch on the street, I'll fucking cut her, yeah?

Thomas: So I imagine you have some plans for your $41,000.
Linda: Yes.
Linda: California.
Linda: For the child's health. Away from the smoke.

Emmett: [while he's running] GET INSIDE! GET INSIDE!

Thomas: The coppers don't give a fuck about us. Right? Which means that here, today, in this room, we have to agree to end this war between us. Take a vote.

Shivering: Where are we going?
Mr. Dawson: Dunkirk.
Shivering: No, we're going to England!
Mr. Dawson: We have to go to Dunkirk first.
Shivering: I'm not going back!

Arthur: [Digbeth exits interview] Oh, I don't know Tom. Kids these days...
Thomas: They didn't fight, so they're different. They stay kids.

Thomas: [handing Ada a gun] Welcome home.

Oswald: Michael. Michael Gray. You lost all your cousin's money in America playing the fool. A nightclub in Detroit called the Gladiator was your regular. You lost the money and found a wife there. And poor old Arthur Shelby standing there at the window is afraid his wife will never return. My spies tell me she's been seen with another man.
Arthur: [Arthur's hand tightens on the back of a chair and breaks it]
Thomas: Arthur. Arthur.
[Speaks to Arthur in Romany]
Oswald: And bingo. 20 seconds in, and I have them speaking their wog lingo.

Thomas: Toss the coin, Mr Gold.
Aberama: Tommy Shelby OBE, no wager today. But with this penny I will buy a flower to put on your grave.

Inspector: One thing that I have learned is that you and I are opposites. But also just the same. Like an image in a mirror. We hate people. And they in turn hate us. And fear us. Before the day is over, your heart will be broken, just the same as mine. Men like us, Mr. Shelby, will always be alone. And what love we get, we will have to pay for.
Tommy: You forget, inspector, I have my family.
Inspector: Enjoy your day.

Niels: Is it big enough?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: To end the war?
Niels: To end all war.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: They need us.
Luis: Until they don't.

Thomas: Other than money and a scrap yard that's clearly not for sale, what is it that you want from me, Mr Gold?
Aberama: How do you know that I want anything from you?
Thomas: Well, there's my company treasurer, who is a certified accountant and also apparently a witch...

Will: You're from around here, aren't you?
Raymond: I grew up here. I found a way to escape.
Will: [sadly] And now, you make a living ensuring nobody else escapes.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: [At their first meeting] Are you married?
Kitty: Not very much.

Thomas: We need to forget the idea that it has to be Arthur that pulls the trigger.

Thomas: Those of you who are last will soon be first. And those of you who are downtrodden will rise up.

Thomas: Men from New York and Sicily here in Birmingham. These men will not leave this city until the whole family is dead. That's how it works. An eye for an eye. It's called vendetta.

Arthur: [scoffs] I don't know how you do this, Tom. I really don't.
[both acknowledge open door]
Thomas: [jots note in journal] You learn things, Arthur.
Thomas: [puts down cigarette to assemble drinks] That woman has only two rooms downstairs. Her husband has lost his job, and he beats her, and yet,
[Arthur exhales]
Thomas: the thing that brings her to see her member of parliament is songbirds. Now that's politics, Arthur.
[both have a drink]
Arthur: It's not for me...

Aunt: Tommy, I'm 45 years old today.
Thomas: 45 years old and still breaking hearts, eh?

Shivering: You haven't turned around.
Mr. Dawson: No, we have a job to do.
Shivering: Job? This is a pleasure yacht. You're weekend sailors, not the bloody navy. A man your age?
Mr. Dawson: Men my age dictate this war. Why should we be allowed to send our children to fight it?
Shivering: You should be at home!
Mr. Dawson: Well, there won't be any home if we allow a slaughter across the Channel. There's no hiding from this.

Thomas: I had a dream about a black cat last night, Polly. A black-cat dream means there is a traitor close by. It was you told me that.
Aunt: A black cat can mean lots of things. Can mean you're hurting yourself. Betraying yourself. Are you seeing things, Thomas?
Thomas: Yes, I am. Yes, I am. Very clearly. Coming from every fucking direction.

Shivering: [Referring to George] Will, uh... Will he be all right? The boy.
Peter: [after a long pause] Yeah.

Thomas: You know in my head I still pay you for it.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: When I came to you with those calculations, we thought we might start a chain reaction that would destroy the entire world...
Albert: I remember it well. What of it?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: I believe we did.

Mother: You wanted to speak to us, Mr. Shelby?
Thomas: Yep.
Mother: All of us?
Thomas: Yeah.
Mother: At 6:30 in the morning?
Thomas: [impatiently] Yes.
[he and Polly light cigarettes]
Mother: We don't smoke in here.
Thomas: Well, I fucking do.
Mother: Nor do we use language.
Aunt: Nor do we find fault in the innocent. Yet you do. You fucking do.

Freddie: She found the list of names, left on the telegraph machine. And on that list was your name and my name, together. What kind of a list would have the name of a communist and the name of a bookmaker side-by-side?
Tommy: Perhaps it's a list of men who give false hope to the poor. The only difference between you and me, Freddie, is that sometimes my horses stand a chance of winning.

Thomas: I think you're the first Shelby in history to have a legal licence for anything. What would our granddad say, eh? He'd be turning in his grave. "Honest bloody money! Hey, in this house? Here?"

Thomas: It's not a good idea to look at Tommy Shelby the wrong way.

Maurice: [Robert opens the vault to see Maurice on his death bed struggling to say something] Disa... disap... disappointed
Fischer: I know, Dad. I know you were disappointed I couldn't be you.
Maurice: No. No, no. I was disappointed... that you tried.
[Robert opens the safe to find the new Last Will and Testament along with the pinwheel from when he was a kid. The inception has worked]

J. Robert Oppenheimer: Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Thomas: Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold.
Aberama: Oh! Everything is for sale. Everything.

- Distorted child's voice: Dad! There's a phone call for you!
- Dad! There's a phone call for you!
Thomas: Charlie!
- Charlie! Wait!
- Charlie!

Thomas: Four for peace, two for truce, one abstention, let's get on with the war.

Thomas: Lies travel faster than the truth.

Thomas: If there were a snap election in this house today, I wouldn't win it. Not if I were running against the devil himself.

May: Thomas Shelby from where?
Thomas: From Birmingham.
May: Goodness...
Thomas: No, not much...

Aunt: So you shook hands with the devil?
Thomas: Yeah. And I walked past him... Pol, I've had an idea.
Aunt: Oh, fuck.

Leslie: Are you saying that there's a chance that when we push that button... we destroy the world?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: The chances are near zero...
Leslie: Near zero?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: What do you want from theory alone?
Leslie: Zero would be nice!

Lenny: [to a potential target as Anna saws his finger off] Take a deep breath sir

J. Robert Oppenheimer: A Pillar of Fire...

Matthew: Gone fishin', aren't we?

Haakon: Do stars die?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Well, if they do, they'd cool, then collapse. In fact, the bigger the star, the more violent its demise. Their gravity gets so concentrated, it swallows everything.

Thomas: All Religion is a foolish answer to a foolish question.

Grand: I am curious. What was your father's profession?
Thomas: Well, he told fortunes, and he stole horses. Often, he would tell a man that his horse would be stolen, and they would marvel at his powers when it was.

Thomas: I know what this is. It's just myself talking to myself about myself.

Thomas: I'm gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie.
Charlie: You goin' to what?
Thomas: If it's heads, Abe here takes all of this... With my blessing.
Charlie: Tommy!
Thomas: And if it's tails... I'll fuck your daughter, Mr Gold.

Thomas: Lizzie, you need to understand.
Lizzie: That you tell Polly, not me.

Thomas: How far have we got?
Aunt: We've established that ladies are decorative.

Thomas: I got Charley a real horse, Lizzie, not a toy. Thoroughbred.
Lizzie: And on Christmas Day it will be just you and Charley.
Thomas: And the horse.

Tommy: According to the law, we are equal partners. It's written on the paperwork in black and white. A third, a third, a third. But the thing is... Well, me and John, we quite fancy splitting your share so, just next time, use a gun, man.

Thomas: Stay and watch the fight, Alfie.
Alfie: No, you're all right. I already know who wins, don't I?

Thomas: If you're not gonna show up for a family meeting, let someone know. We thought you were dead. There is fifteen fucking Italians out there...
Arthur: No, there's not. There is thirteen. I just killed two of them.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: These things are hard on your heart.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: I know what it means if the Nazis have a Bomb!

Thomas: I learnt long ago to hate my enemies, but I've never loved one before.

Jessie: Gretta died at the age of nineteen, of consumption. And Kitty said you were at her bedside for three months, every day, holding her hand. And after she died, you went away to war. Kitty said that the sweet boy who left never came back.
Thomas: No one came back.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: Well, in one hour and fifty eight minutes, we'll know!

Thomas: Hello, Alfie.
Alfie: Yeah, did you, did you look through the binoculars?
Thomas: Yeah.
Alfie: I watch ships. No two are the same. Yeah. That is how God sees us both in his eyes.
Thomas: God, eh?
Alfie: Yeah, sort of, I mean, you know, someone who's responsible for all this fucking mess. Now, how soon did you know that I was not dead?
Thomas: You wrote me a letter, Alfie.
Alfie: Did I?
Thomas: Yeah, you asked about your dog.
Alfie: Oh, they, they gave me a lot of drugs at first, yeah, all right. I was lyin' out there, and the tide come in, and it woke me up. I remember lookin' around and thinking, you know, "Fuck... if this is hell... then it looks a lot like Margate."
Thomas: Maybe that's just what hell looks like, eh?
Alfie: [picking up a copy of the Torah] No, no, not accordin' to this holy book right here, yeah? It gives a very, very vivid description. You and I are both fucked, mate.

Thomas: She's in the past. The past is not my concern. The future is no longer my concern, either.

Thomas: Before I go, I would like it known that I'm unable to swallow food in the same room as this priest. Enjoy your evening.

- He's gone! Fucking killed him!
- Fucking son! My own fucking kin!
Thomas: Listen to me!
- How can a one-armed man avenge the death of his son, eh?
- They crucified my son...
- For you.

Mother: May I ask what this meeting is about?
[Polly places a folder on the table]
Thomas: The Grace Shelby Foundation is the biggest single source of funding for this charitable institution, devoted to the care of the orphaned girls of South Birmingham, yeah?
Mother: For which we give thanks.
Thomas: Uh-huh.
[he slides the folder across the table]
Aunt: I have a temper similar to the one described in that report. Yet unlike you, I wait until I'm matched in size.
Mother: Whose report?
Aunt: The testimony of children.
[Mother Superior opens the folder]
Mother: Who have they spoken to?
Aunt: You'd have them only speak to God.
Mother: God be their witness.
Thomas: There is God, and there are the Peaky Blinders. This is Sparkhill, we're in Small Heath. We're much, much closer at hand than God.
Aunt: And we have heard terrible things.
Mother: We have in this place children of the worst sort. They lie as easily as breathe.
Aunt: You had a child half-black. You made her wash with a different soap.
Mother: Mr. Shelby, your own sins are legend.
Thomas: Our sins? Our sins, against the beating of children with bricks and hoses? Our sins? Our sins...
[he pulls out a small vial, pours some powder into his hand, and blows it across the table at Mother Superior]
Thomas: ... against the black child who hanged herself for fear of your temper?
Mother: I do not see how...
Thomas: You do not see?
[he snatches Mother Superior's glasses off her face and smashes them on the table]
Thomas: Now put 'em on. Put 'em on your face, or it'll be your eyes that are broken. Please don't imagine that I won't use this minute to do it, or that I am afraid of your prayers or your crosses.
[she hesitates, then puts the shattered glasses back on]
Aunt: You see the world broken. Like those beaten children will.
Thomas: Now look at me.
[no response]
Thomas: Look at me.
[no response]
Thomas: LOOK AT ME!
[Mother Superior fearfully raises her eyes to Tommy's]
Thomas: Funding withdrawn.
Aunt: All children to be taken into our own institutions.
Mother: You have no say in where the children--
[Polly suddenly draws a dagger and points it in Mother Superior's face]
Aunt: If I come for you--and I still might yet decide to come for you--I will wear high heels so you can hear my approach on the cobblestones and have time to repent. You listen for my footsteps.

Anna: [entering Miller's room] We're probably never going to get that dinner are we ?
Lenny: Probably not.
Anna: [undressing] Then we'd better f**k instead

Alfie: All right, the problem, right, between rum and gin, yeah, is that gin, right, it leads to the melancholy, whereas rum incites violence, you know? And it also allows you to be liberated from your self-doubt. Now, I hear you're probably more in need of the ol' rum at the moment rather than gin, mate, hmm?
[a bird flies past]
Alfie: Oh, dear, Tommy, you've got fucking starlings, mate, you know that? That shit'll rot your pipework.
[he pulls out a pistol]
Alfie: These bastards only understand one language.
Thomas: It's all right, Alfie. No need. It's all right, I'm, uh, I'm getting a kestrel.
Alfie: I hear that you've got Italians, mate. You got a kestrel for them and all?
Thomas: Yes. I'll have a kestrel for them, as well.
Alfie: Well, everything is confirmed, innit? Yeah, weakness behind the eyes. Didn't blink too much, all right? You smell of smoke, and coal, and horses. Hmm? You are back where you belong, Tommy.
[Tommy pours a glass of gin and hands it to Alfie]
Thomas: I know you don't touch it, but you have a good nose.
Alfie: Right, well, you gotta ask yourself seriously, though, you know, did I even want to piss and shit indoors, or was I actually born, you know, to defecate in the fields and the outhouses? This is a serious issue, though, Tommy, you know? 'Cause your people, your class, and my religion is quite similar actually, because you just cannot wash it out, right, because it, it come out your mother's tits.
[he dips a finger in the glass, sniffs it, and puts it under Tommy's nose]
Alfie: Hmm. No. The Americans want it sweeter.

Thomas: I had more complicated strategies in mind for Mr. Mosley. Then he spoke badly to my wife.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: Why limit yourself to one dogma?
Jean: You're a physicist. You pick and choose rules? Or do you use the discipline to channel your energies into progress?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: I like a little wiggle room. You always tow the party line?
Jean: I like my wiggle room, too.

Thomas: I've sent a message to Aberama Gold.
Johnny: No! No, Tom. I'll get you fifty Lee boys. Good men, Tom.
Thomas: I don't need good men for this Johnny, I need bad men.
Johnny: Tommy, these people are fucking savages! You know, heathens, Tom.

Thomas: She gave me sixpence and she sends me to the shop. Margarine, eggs and bread. And I came back...
Jessie: ...with a top hat and a coconut.
Thomas: And that was all the money we had, for the whole fucking week. And my Mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.
Jessie: Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?
Thomas: Because I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand... why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. I wanted to be different. That's all I wanted.
Jessie: And you are.

Tommy: You have a gramophone?
Grace: It's broken.
Tommy: We can still dance

Raymond: Doesn't he understand he's hurting the very people he's trying to help?

- I'm glad I didn't shoot you.
- It would have been a kindness.
- Now get out.
Thomas: This is a cheque guarantee.
- Signed by mosley.
- On behalf of a man called Jimmy mccavern.

Leslie: A Nobel Prize for making a bomb?
J. Robert Oppenheimer: Alfred Nobel invented dynamite.

Grace: Happy or sad?
Thomas: sad
Grace: I warn you, it will break your heart
Thomas: Already Broken

May: I'll book myself a room.
Thomas: Already done. At the Midland, a suite. I stay there myself sometimes.
May: Sometimes that's where you stay?
Thomas: [with a wry smile] But not tonight, it would seem.

Carmine: [feigning insanity] Yeah, Doctor Crane, I can't take it anymore. It's all too much. "The walls are closing in." Blah, blah, blah. Couple more days of this food, it'll be true.
Dr. Jonathan Crane: What do you want?
Carmine: I want to know how you're gonna convince me to keep my mouth shut.
Dr. Jonathan Crane: About what? You don't know anything.
Carmine: I know you don't want the police to take a closer look at the drugs they seized. And I know about your experiments with the inmates of your nuthouse. See, I don't go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets. And those goons you used - I own the muscle in this town. Now, I've been bringing your stuff in for months, so whatever he's planning, it's big, and I want in.
Dr. Jonathan Crane: Well, I already know what he'll say: that we should kill you.
Carmine: [chuckling] No, even he can't get me in here. Not in my town.
Dr. Jonathan Crane: [sighs, then matter-of-factly] Would you like to see my mask? I use it in my experiments.
[takes out the Scarecrow mask]
Dr. Jonathan Crane: Now, probably not very frightening to a guy like you, but these crazies, they can't stand it.
[he puts it on]
Carmine: So when did the nut take over the nuthouse?
[Crane sprays fear gas into Falcone's face; Falcone begins to scream in terror as the gas takes effect: Crane's voice is altered, and the mask appears to move like a real face]
The: They scream, and they cry. Much as you're doing now.
[Cuts to later outside Falcone's cell. He is still screaming]
Dr. Jonathan Crane: Well, he's not faking, not that one. I'll talk to the judge and see if I can get him moved to the secure wing at Arkham. I can't treat him here.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: They won't fear it until they understand it. And they won't understand it until they've used it. Theory will take you only so far.

J. Robert Oppenheimer: Why would they care what I do?
Ernest: Because you're not just self-important, you're actually important.

Charles: Dad, you got three what?
Thomas: I got three shillings for a two shilling 'orse.

Aunt: This family does everything open. You've nothing more to say to this meeting, Thomas?
Tommy: No, nothing that's women's business.
Aunt: This whole bloody enterprise was women's business while you boys were away at war. What's changed?
Tommy: We came back.

Thomas: I will conduct myself like a businessman.
Jessie: Who says sweetheart.

Alex: In six months, the information you have will be obsolete. They will come after you, wherever you are.
Anna: I never had a single day of freedom. Six months is an eternity. And I better have it.
[turning to Lenny]
Anna: Are we agreed?
Lenny: I wish you the very best... for at least six months.

Tommy: John, I've told you to keep the doors locked. It could have been anyone. Get dressed. We're doing it today.
Esme: As a matter of fact, he's doing me today.
Tommy: Make sure he has done you by nine.