Tie Goes to the Runner

Billions 3×1

Jeffcoat: I come from baseball country. We learn at an early age that a tie goes to the runner. And that is how I want you to think of our business community and its leaders from now on.

Axelrod: I can't just show up. I have to dominate it. The only thing is, for the first time in my life, I don't think I can.
Wendy: Fear?
Axelrod: Rage.

Wags: You're not authorized to guarantee bonuses. Your ego just wrote a check your body can't cash.

Wags: Like Squanto should have said to the pilgrims... "Get the fuck out of here."

Bach: As is often the case, the longer you can hold off, the more likely you'll be screaming in pleasure at the end.
Axelrod: We're not making a porno, Orrin, though I appreciate the effort to make me laugh.

Axelrod: No. No fuckin' way. I'll never do that. If I give up my ability to trade, I'm agreeing that they're right and I built all this by cheating... I might as well give up my license to breathe.

Axelrod: What the fuck is... What's the problem?

Axelrod: Listen, Lara, I won't micromanage you. But if you really plan on giving billions of dollars to this stock jockey, ask him this, how he's codified the behavioral heuristics at his firm from stock selection to position sizing to market timing to risk management... He hasn't, because his decision-flow process is Google, Exxon, Proctor & Gamble, same as any old lady in Kansas City, except she won't charge you two and twenty for it.

Wags: You really want me to let 'em into the books and see the trades?
Axelrod: Lots of guys watch Bruce Lee movies. Doesn't mean you can do karate.

---

Chuck: I happen to know you're a Calvinist. You believe we're all fallen beyond any hope for redemption. So answer me this... What's one more demerit for a friend allied with you against a common foe?
Dake: Ecumenically, that's not exactly right, and it's borderline offensive. But, also, it's... pretty much true.

Bryan: Glad to be here, boss.
Dake: Ugh. Don't call me "boss." We're peers. In a hierarchy, yes, but colleagues. Call me "Oliver."
Bryan: You got it.

Wendy: Again? Have you tried blinking rapidly 100 times?

Chuck: Funny thing, the egg cream, hmm? No egg in it, no cream, either. Just chocolate syrup, a splash of milk, seltzer. I guess the French had a drink called chocolat et crème. The American corruption for that became "egg cream."

Taylor: I said 'no.'
Wags: With finality or as a negotiating ploy?

Black Jack: Ah, he'll come 'round. I've seen this play a thousand times... By the time the curtain comes down, he'll take your hand, and you'll share the bow.
Chuck: I don't know...
Black Jack: Well, what's meant to happen always does.

Dake: A better question is which is Axelrod going to bet on, his present or his future?

Dake: No one gets where he got by acting only on impulse.
Bryan: When it comes to billionaires and Bobby Axelrod in particular, the thing you got to understand is... they're meat-eaters. The only win they can live with is total, present and future.

Wendy: You taught me an average trader makes a trade and feels good. A great trader makes a trade and feels nothing, as in be cold and act. Don't get hung up on emotion.

Lara: The money, Bobby... Just don't fuckin' lose it.

- He's gonna be here soon. We're gonna know by the look on his face what happened. Either he crushed them... or he's become the government's favorite bitch.

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