Charlie Hunnam: Ray

The Gentlemen

Ray

Raymond: [Watching the video of Big Dave and the pig] You really can't unsee it once you've seen it.

Ray: You're wrong, Fletcher. That's not how Michael works.
Fletcher: Yeah, I know. I know. I was just having a bit of fun. Every movie needs a bit of action, doesn't it? And it's not like Michael doesn't have a reputation.
Ray: Had a reputation. He's been gentrified.

Raymond: Who are you talking about know?
Fletcher: I talk Raymondo of Dry Eye. Oh Dry Eye, what is he? Chinese, Japanese, Pekingese, get on your fucking knees. Dirty dragon filth. 'Yellow is the colour, gambling is the game'

Fletcher: Can I come with you?
Raymond: No, but you can go smoke the exhaust pipe in the back of your hearse.
Fletcher: I might come anyway. You'll just hear me scratching about in the dark, wanking into a hanky.

Ray: [Fletcher puts a cigar in his mouth] If you're thinking of smoking that in here... don't.
Fletcher: I find that confusing. Do you mean don't smoke or don't think?
[Clicks lighter and Ray jumps out of his seat]
Fletcher: Oh...
Fletcher: [Ray motions towards Fletcher] Oh, all right, all right, it's going out!

Ray: I should stab you with that fucking rolling pin!
Fletcher: Oh, don't be cunty. I was just hoping we could have a cozy little drink together. So, I've got a meeting on Saturday at your favorite newspaper. As the best private investigator in this smoky little town, good evening, ladies and gentlemen, they are ready to put a hundred and fifty grand in my pocket to give them some filth. Good for me, that, but in this case, it's bad for you.

Mickey Pearson: No sooner do I entertain Matthew's offer to buy me out, and reject Dry Eye's offer, does one of my farms get raided.
Rosalind Pearson: First time ever.
Mickey Pearson: Doesn't feel like a coincidence, does it?
Rosalind Pearson: It isn't. There's fuckery afoot.
Mickey Pearson: How did they find it?
Ray: I don't know. I'm making inquiries.

Fletcher: He explodes on the scene like a millennial fucking firecracker. Bang, bang, bang, bang!
Ray: I'm going to have to stop you right there, Fletcher. That doesn't sound like the Dry Eye I know.
Fletcher: Just making sure you're paying attention, Raymond. So let's cut instead to a somewhat anticlimactic, but suave and debonair Dry Eye, like a Chinese James Bond.

Raymond: I don't build a joint like the Americans in the new school. Back strapping, jock strap and coke wrapping all that bollocks. I like a good old fashioned 50/50 mix me that's how we used to play.

Raymond: Feel free to talk.
Coach: I gather you're the consigliere of the outfit that my boys were stupid enough to fuck around with. On that note, I'd like to extend my apologies on their behalf. My boys, they're naive, they've had hard lives and they're just starting to come good. But, they're my lads, my responsibility, so it's me that should be accountable for their actions. Now, I can return your goods, but I can't return the inconvenience, the time, the fucking headache. And so I offer you my loyalty, my word, my time until that debt is settled. I'll make amends, but just leave me lads alone.
Raymond: First of all, I'm going to need to know how your lads got that information about where our farm was sited, cause that's not common knowledge. Once we've overcome that little challenge, then we can talk.