Rebadow: Libros. Libros para los muertos.
Rebadow: So Norma was here again today?
Busmalis: So we’re both in prison?
Rebadow: Excuse me?
Busmalis: I’m sorry. I though we were asking questions that we already knew the answer to.
Morales: I figure, you and Guerra made peace you won’t be stabbing each other with silverware. Besides, I got a question.
Alvarez: Nine inches, baby.
Ryan: Hey Chucky, got a minute?
Pancamo: For you, O’Reily, I got only 28 seconds. But the way you double-talk it should be plenty.
Cutler: You and me? We’re gonna spoon. Now bend the fuck over.
Ryan: Hey, Robson. What shade of lipstick is that, huh? Dick suck red?
Pancamo: Yeah, we heard you’re working receiving and discharge.
Franklin Winthrop: I interest you?
Keller: Fascinate is a better word. Meet me later. Storage closet, Unit B.
Alvarez: Yo, I’m as bugged out as you. I mean, I know you guys spent a lot of time with Cutler. Did he ever mention anything about me?
Robson: Yeah. In his sleep at night he’d whisper your name. Fuck off.
Keller: You fuck her yet?
Beecher: Chris.
Keller: Be honest.
Beecher: Yes.
Keller: Good for you, you sexy motherfucker.
Dave Brass: Morales. He had Martinez cut me, which screwed with my head, which made me take off with your winnings. He’s the bastard you should hate.
Rebadow: There’s room in my heart for both of you.
Beecher: Same old story. I got fucked in the ass.
Redding: I suppose you wouldn’t want to trade that service spoon for a telephone, O’Reily? Come on over and join our company?
Ryan: Yeah, that’d be a dream come true; pissing off strangers at dinnertime.
Redding: Ain’t no money in the kitchen.
Ryan: That’s why my middle name is “subsidize.”
Schillinger: I’ll deal with it.
Keller: No. I’ll kill Beecher.
Schillinger: You?
Keller: Before I whack him, I just wanna fuck him in the ass one more time.
Fitzgerald: What the fuck is going on here?
Keller: Just a little harmless fun between two consenting adults.
Alvarez: It’s Torquemada. Club owner. The king of the night.
Alonzo Torquemada: Miguel Alvarez. I hear you’re the man to know.
Alvarez: Whoever told you that was an idiot.
Howell: on her unexpected pregnancy I’m going to take a leave of absence, drop the calf, and from then on keep my fucking legs crossed.
Torquemada: I have a little confession. You see, I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex with man, woman, fish, or fowl.
Torquemada: I don’t want to fuck you. That would be too common. I want to be you, Miguel Alvarez.
Schillinger: You’re dead, sweetpea.
Schillinger: realizing Keller switched the shanks That cocksucker!
Keller: I couldn’t face living the rest of my life in here without you. Don’t you see? I did what I did out of love.
Beecher: I loved alcohol. I loved heroin. But I had to put them behind me because they were poison. Death. You… are death.
Keller: going over the railing Beecher, no!
McManus: All I know is that the move is temporary. We’ll be back someday.
Hill: So, what have we learned? What’s the lesson for today? For all the never-ending days and restless nights in Oz? That morality is transient? That virtue cannot exist without violence? That to be honest is to be flawed? That the giving and taking of love both debases and elevates us? That God or Allah or Yahweh has answers to questions we dare not even ask? The story is simple: a man lives in prison and dies. How he dies? That’s easy. The who and the why is the complex part. The human part. The only part worth knowing… Peace.