Parker: [torturing man with a bar stool] If you don't tell me what I need to know, I'm gonna press down on this chair until it crushes your trachea. Trust me, it's agonizing. Plus, there's the posthumous humiliation of having been killed with a chair.
Parker: [points the gun] Do what I say and you won't get hurt.
Jack: [tried to take out gun from holster] Mine's bigger than yours.
Parker: [shoots him in the leg] It's not the size. It's how you use it.
Parker: I don't steal from anyone who can't afford it, and I don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it.
Leslie Rodgers: Do you ever feel bad about what you do?
Parker: Everyone steals, Leslie. Some people admit it to themselves, some don't. It's what human beings do. That's why we invented locks.
Leslie Rodgers: I'm sick of chauffeuring these fucking entitled wannabe playboys who have never worked a day in their life. Showing them houses that I could never afford. Laughing at their jokes that I can't stand. All while fending off their gropes. But not all their gropes. Because you never know, one of these days I might just might get a full commission.
Leslie Rodgers: Are you crazy? You almost died! Well, you have a, a mangled hand, a broken rib!
Claire: Four this time.
Ascension: [under her breath] This is a real man.
James: I believe that man that we found on the side of the road that day, he weren't no man at all. He was an angel, sent here to test us.
Ascension: [Leslie signs for a package, opens it, and wads of currency fall out. Her mother calls out from upstairs] Leslie, who was that?
Leslie Rodgers: It's the mailman. Nothing but bills.
Jake Fernandez: [after Leslie buys a large cup of coffee] Hey, you have a cupholder in your car, or you just keep that between your legs?
Leslie Rodgers: Well, it's large and black, Jake. Where do you think I like it?