A variety of losers in Dublin have harrowingly farcical intersecting stories of love, greed and violence.

John: This is a list of things that I want, and have wanted, for a long time. Straight from the heart - no fucking around: to be with you; to live with you; and to eventually, you know, to marry you; to have your child... or...
Deirdre: ...for me to have yours...
John: ...yes, all my children - however many - three, four...
Deirdre: Go on.
John: ...to grow old with you; to know - and that's the main thing - to know, all right? that you feel the same. That's it.
Sally: Would you ever hurt me?
Oscar: No!
Sally: Neglect me?
Oscar: Never!
Sally: Shit on me?
Oscar: [pause] Do you want me to?
Mr. Henderson: ...I will TCB, as they say in the States. I will "take care of business."
Lehiff: 'Cause when there's something there...
Café Waitress: Some chemistry.
Lehiff: Right! Who knows where the sparks will lead? An' a fella like myself, a stranger could just be a bit of fun in the sack, no more than that. Or, and it's not that crazy, your soul mate, eh?
Café Waitress: Yeah, you've got a point.
Lehiff: On the otherhand, I could just be a thief or something.
Café Waitress: What do you mean?
Lehiff: Some villain, just waiting for my chance to
[punches her]
Lehiff: smack your jaw and rob the register while the place is empty.
[jumps counter, robs register]
Lehiff: But this is the thing of it, see. You just never know...
[gardai walk in]
Lehiff: what's gonna happen.
Jerry Lynch: You just don't have the requisite Celtic soul, man.
John: You don't just took up when the next fellow walks by!
Sally: You stay right there, I'll go. There's a stench of adultery in here.
Mr. Henderson: [to himself] I am the boss. I have authority. You are the minion. You're beneath. I have the power. What do I have? I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Speak up. What do I have? That's right. That's absolutely... what the FUCK?
Deirdre: I've got a guy who's well-off, who's attractive...
Maura: Who's *married.*
Deirdre: Well, you can't have it all.
John: Those are the actions, and I have no qualms about saying it, of a whore
Deirdre: Get Out! Get Out!
Karen: Do you have anything to say for yourself?
John: Erm... Go fuck yourself?
Mr. Henderson: Don't worry. I didn't expect anything else.
John: Ah, go fuck yourself!
John: It isn't acceptable, Deirdre. After what, five? six weeks? This is bollocks! You don't fuckin... you don't just hook up with the next fellow who walks by. The only reason you do that is if you never cared in the first place. And that's cold, man. That is the behavior of, and I have no qualms about saying it, of a whore!
Sally: Have I got a ronnie?
Mick: A what?
Sally: A ronnie, moustache, like?
Mick: Show.
Mick: Well you're no Tom Selleck, but...
Sally: Ah, go fuck yourself.
Lehiff: You shouldn't have pissed on my leg.
Lehiff: Flat-footed, fat fucking faggot.
Lehiff: Don't want sugar. Got any brown sauce?
John: How's Kathy?
Oscar: Wisftul, Are ya?
John: Among other emotions!
Jerry Lynch: This is what separates the men from the faggots.
Deirdre: Might's not definite, is it?
John: No.
Deirdre: It's a vague enough term at best.
Lehiff: That's fucking delish, man!
Lehiff: You scummy fuck!
John: There's a nice pair'a Gucci loafers!

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