28 мар. 2016 г.

The Night Manager × 2

& Roper: You drink my wine, you steal my woman... Proud of you, Danny.

& Lady Langbourne: Lord Langbourne is a snob, basically. Three generations of Eton or you’re not on the map.
    Roper: I’m only one generation, Sandy. So what does that make me?
    Sandy: You’re paying the bill, Dicky. Which means... you are the map.

& Angela: Oh, T.E. Lawrence... of Arabia. The lonely genius who wished only to be a number.

& Angela: Oh, you’re too bloody perfect, Jonathan Pine, that’s your trouble. I don’t want you perfect. Go on, have a biscuit. Eat it.

& Steadman: Now, there’s about 3,000 years of wisdom in this room and I represent about six weeks of it. But hell, those odds never stopped an American before.


& Steadman: He’s crossed the bridge.
    Angela: Yeah. Now we’re burning it.

& Corky: When you’re better, I will hood you, and hang you up by those lovely ankles until the truth falls out of you by gravity. Toodle-oo.

& Frisky: You know the best way to make a bloke talk? Fizzy drink treatment. Up the nose. Bung the mouth. And if you’ve got a funnel handy... Oh, it’s even better. Hits you right in the switchboard. It’s bloody diabolical.

& Roper: You sleep now. Tomorrow, we’ll find out who you really are...

--
On the IMDb


+ Soundtrack.

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