Dwight: I can't tell if Miho is alive or dead, but I'm on my feet and every ounce of me wants to get some killing done.
Cardinal Roark: Kevin?
Marv: What's left of him, anyway. The dog ate the rest.
Marv: I don't know why you died, Goldie. I don't know why and I don't know how. I never even met you before tonight. But you were a friend and more when I needed one. And when I find out who did it, it won't be quick and quiet like it was with you. It'll be loud and nasty - my kind of kill. And when his eyes go dead, the hell I send him to will seem like heaven after what I've done to him. I love you, Goldie.
Hartigan: There's wrong, and then there's wrong, and then there's this.
Dwight: It's time to prove to your friends that you're worth a damn. Sometimes that means dying. Sometimes it means killing a whole lot of people.
Dwight: A hardtop, with a decent engine, and make sure it's got a big trunk.
Dwight: Deadly little Miho. She won't let you feel a thing unless she wants you to. She twists the blade. He feels it.
Marv: I love hitmen. No matter what you do to them, you won't feel bad.
Dwight: She doesn't quite chop his head off. She makes a Pez dispenser out of him.
Wendy: You sat there and took it, when you could've taken my gun away from me any time you wanted to...
Marv: Sure, but I thought I might be able to talk some sense into you. And I probably would've had to paste you one, getting the gun and I don't hurt dames.
[Stuka gets shot by an arrow.]
Stuka: Hey, will ya look at that? It's right through me. Guys, look. It's cut a hole right through me.
Schutz: There's something wrapped around it. Some kind of note.
Manute: Give it to me.
Stuka: Guys, this is starting to really hurt. Just look at it. It's poked a hole right through me. Guys?
Manute: [reading the note.] McCarthy, you fool.
Stuka: Guys, don't you think maybe somebody oughta call a doctor for me or something? This isn't the kind of thing you just ignore, guys.
Manute: Out back. Everyone. Bring the women.
Dwight: Most people think Marv is crazy. He just had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield swinging an axe into somebody's face. Or in a Roman arena, taking his sword to other gladiators like him. They woulda tossed him girls like Nancy back then.
Marv: Walk down the right back alley in Sin City, and you can find anything.
Cardinal Roark: Is killing me going to bring you joy?
Marv: Not in the killing. But everything leading up to it is gonna be a gas.
Dwight: I'm Shellie's new boyfriend and I'm out of my mind. If you so much as talk to her or even think her name, I'll cut you in ways that'll make you useless to a woman.
Jack Rafferty: You're making a big mistake, man. A *big* mistake.
Dwight: No. You're the one who already made the mistake...you didn't flush. [Shoves Jack's head down toilet.].
Marv: Worth dying for. Worth killing for. Worth going to hell for. Amen.