Blood and Wine

There's nothing to see.
I don't want to see anything.

Just that line- that line
where the water touches the sky.

No neighbors.
No barking dogs.
Nobody in your face.
No bullshit.
Except your own.
Yeah, well,
I can handle my own.

I like my bullshit.
It's not bad.
It probably even works.
You wanna be alone?
Now, this is
a thousand points of light.

- Reagan didn't know what he was talking about.
- Bush.

- What?
- Bush said that, not Reagan.

Bullshit. It was Reagan.
Bush was "Read my lips."

- What did you just do?
- I like to take a photo of the goods.

Avoids any disagreement on the sale.
- You got me in the picture.
- Did I?

Give me the photograph.
We'll tear it up
when we have the money.

There's no such thing
as honor among thieves. It's a myth.

- What's this?
- I thought it over.

I can't move that. I'm on parole.
I'm known. You're not.

So you'll fly to New York, catch a cab,
take a walk, find an address.

Pas de problème,
as they say in Bordeaux.

In other words,
you're too chickenshit to do it yourself.

Maybe I am.
You're right. I am.