Black Tuesday

Peaky Blinders 5×1

Tommy: There's no rest for me in this world. Perhaps in the next...

Arthur: It's possible because, this morning in New York City at 6am, the Wall Street Stock Exchange crashed like a steam train. We were most definitely on board.

Ada: Shelbys stay out of the sporting stuff.
Finn: What? To maintain his fucking reputation? Oi!
Ada: You listen to me. We've got a chance. Tommy has given us that chance. He's got power, we've got money, and our past is left behind us.

Tommy: What do I have to do to make people fucking listen to me?!!!

Tommy: And, Arthur, tell my boy... that sometimes death is a kindness.

Tommy: I won't be on my own. Never on my own.

Linda: Actually, um, Arthur has some documents that he'd like to hand out.
Tommy: Yeah? What documents?
Arthur: I was just explaining to everyone, Tom, that, um, well, we're fucked. Ain't that right? Hmm?

Tommy: To be precise, everything we channelled through the New York Stock Exchange is now offering a return of ten cents to the dollar. And the Nolan Bank of America, where we invested our fluidity, is offering five cents to the dollar on all deposits.

Ada: Holy fuck! So now your business is improving the world?
Arthur: Sometimes, Ada... killing is a kindness. Hmm?

Tommy: You need to understand that the corridors of Westminster are very dimly lit. And for those who make the rules, there are no rules. We own the ropes. Who's going to hang us now, eh?

Ada: No-one is gonna hang you, Tommy. You're gonna hang yourself.

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Tommy: And, Polly, you need to reassure Ada that it's 1929, times have changed, we've a lot to do, and no-one gives a fuck who the father is.
Polly: Really? I already know who the father is. But we've had enough shocks for one day.

Adam: Mr Shelby, this arrived from New York. It's from Winston Churchill. He says he was in New York and had dinner with Charlie Chaplin, and Chaplin mentioned your name.
Tommy: So he was in New York and he doesn't mention the crash.

Michael Levitt: So, Mr Shelby, traditionally in this country, print journalists take no interest in the, er, the private lives of politicians.
Tommy: Private lives?
Michael Levitt: But in these modern times, especially in America... journalists are beginning to... Well, that is to say, yes, um... Readers are beginning to say... want to know more about the men who represent them.
Tommy: Of course. In these modern times.
Michael Levitt: Whereas before it would have been seen as ungentlemanly to, er, to ask a public figure questions about personal matters or business affairs...
Tommy: Oh, well. No need to worry. I'm no gentleman.

Tommy: I'm old-fashioned... Michael. I believe private lives should remain private. Not everything modern is good, now, is it?

Polly: Oh, sweetheart. The baby's black, he's a bastard and it's Birmingham. But you don't care. Because the world has changed. And the baby's eyes are golden. And you're gonna leave her with Aunt Polly every day to look after. Aunt Polly, who insisted that you called her Elizabeth.
Ada: How do you know it's a her?
Polly: Cos I'm Polly Gray.
Ada: It's a girl?
Polly: Golden. To be born in the year 1930, where everything will be changed for the better. She'll be the colour of a Hollywood Oscar.

Polly: Tommy is right, you know, Ada. We are flying above the rules now.
Ada: We're bold people, aren't we, Polly?
Polly: That's the beauty.

Tommy: No, I'm not God. Not yet.

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