Character: David Clark / Miller

- This is my credo: never sorry.
- A question: do you regret nothing?
No.
- Really?
No.
- Do not regret it, right?
I live this. I went to the tattooist and thought, I live it, maybe, to write it on my body? And he did.
- That just about any letter?
- No, not one. I like all the letters, you know what I mean?

- You will all die. But together as a family. Worthy.
- But we're not real family, I don't even know who these people are!
What?
She's right, it's the absolute truth. No, we're not related to each other - at all!
- No, we're just friends.
- [chorus] WE're NOT FRIENDS!!!
- I am a simple, ordinary drug dealer, I sell cheap weed, you know? You think my daughter? It was just a homeless punk. Honestly. And my "son"? This is a nerd who lives in the neighborhood. We don't even like. And my "wife" - she, in fact, a cheap stripper.
- Well, thank you, David, class.
- We won't tell anyone...
Wait, wait, you're in short trousers and terrible shoes a stripper?

- Well, what? Today haircut?
- Make, some hair, type: I get up every morning at 05:30 and commute for an hour to a crappy job where my boss is the asshole expects me to lick his ass in order to take my rug rats to a fashion boutique and buy his wife any videos on aerobics until one day I did not have the courage to put a bullet in the forehead.
- Ahem-ahem. This.
Yes, exactly, this.

- What are you doing sleeping? Two o'clock, where's your mom?
- She went out for a drink with a friend.
- When?
- That week.