I don't hit women. I would never hit a woman, Chloe. I'd hit a woman who was trying to hit me with a bottle. That's different. That's self-defense, isn't it? Or a woman who could do karate. I would never hit a woman generally, Chloe.
Ken: Ray, did we or did we not agree that if I let you go on your date tonight, you'd do the things I wanted to do today?
Ray: We are doing the things you wanted to do today.
Ken: And I would do them without you throwing a fucking moody, like a five year old who's dropped all his sweets.
Ray: We didn't agree to that.
[while brushing teeth] Altogether, I've had five pints of beer and six bottles...no...six pints of beer and seven bottles, and you know what? I'm not even pissed.
Ray: Do you think this is good?
Ken: Do I think what's good?
Ray: You know, going around in a boat, looking at stuff?
Ken: Yes, I do. It's called sight-seeing
Ray: Purgatory's kind of like the in-between one. You weren't really shit, but you weren't all that great either. Like Tottenham. Do you believe in all that stuff, Ken?
Ray: The last judgement, and the afterlife, guilt, sins, hell, and all that?
Ray: A lot of midgets tend to kill themselves. The disproportionate, I meant. I heard of Billy Chase offed on Fantasy Island. I think somebody offed on Time Bandits. I suppose they must get really sad about like being really little and that people looking at them, laughing at them, calling them names. You know, short arse. There's another famous midget. I miss him but I can't remember. It's not the R2D2 man; no, he's still going. I hope your midget doesn't kill himself. Your dream sequence will be fucked.
ChloÃ«: He doesn't like being called a midget. He prefers dwarf.
Ray: This is exactly my point! People going around calling you a midget when you want to be called a dwarf. Of course you're going to blow your head off.
Eirik: I can't see! I can't see!
Ray: Of course you can't see! I just a shot a blank in your fucking eyes!
One gay beer for my gay friend, one normal beer for me because I am normal.
Ray: There's a Christmas tree somewhere in London with a bunch of presents underneath it that'll never be opened. And I thought, if I survive all of this, I'd go to that house, apologize to the mother there, and accept whatever punishment she chose for me. Prison...death...didn't matter. Because at least in prison and at least in death, you know, I wouldn't be in fuckin' Bruges. But then, like a flash, it came to me. And I realized, fuck man, maybe that's what hell is: the entire rest of eternity spent in fuckin' Bruges. And I really really hoped I wouldn't die. I really really hoped I wouldn't die.
Maybe that's what 'ell is, an entire eternity spent in fucking Bruges.
Ray: I'm not being funny. We can't stay here.
Ken: We have to stay here until he rings.
Ray: Well what if he doesn't ring for two weeks?
Ken: Then we stay here for two weeks.
Ray: For two weeks? In fucking Bruges? In a room like this? With you? No way.
Ray: Murder, father.
Priest: Why did you murder someone, Raymond?
Ray: For money, father.
Priest: For money? You murdered someone for money?
Ray: Yes, father. Not out of anger. Not out of nothing. For money.
Priest: Who did you murder for money, Raymond?
Ray: You, father.
Priest: I'm sorry?
Ray: I said you, father. What are you, deaf?
[Ray raises pistol]
Ray: Harry Waters says hello.