The Good Heart

Jacques:
[watching April while instructing Lucas in the art of bar-tendering] You should be taking notes here, Lucas. You need to be more of a b*tch yourself, you're too nice. You see, we're not here to save people, we're here to destroy them.

Psychiatrist:
Why did you try suicide?

Lucas:
Well, you know, when it comes to survival of the fittest, I just have to throw in the towel, I guess.

Psychiatrist:
But you're not an animal, Lucas, you're a human being. You live in highly developed society that has all kinds of buffers and security nets that are designed to break your fall.

Lucas:
No, I don't follow the rules of civilization anymore. I'm outside. I'm an animal.

Jacques:
The closest I've come to sexual activity is brushing my teeth.

Lucas:
Never remove an empty glass. It is the customer's history, a track record of his state of mind, an important documentation which should not be fixed nor falsified.

Jacques:
You're doin' all right, Lucas, but you still got a lot to learn. We gotta work on your attitude. I mean, you're not a natural when it comes to hostility and arrogance but, given time, it'll come.

Doctor Lipinski:
So, how are you feeling these days?

Jacques:
Doubt. Fear. Pain. Anxiety. Distraction. Nervousness. Horror, fright, panic, dread, terror. Trepidation. I feel like a goddamn thesaurus.

Doctor Lipinski:
There's a reason we call you a patient, you know, and that's because you have to be patient.

Jacques:
This is a bar, and by definition the capacity of a bar cannot exceed 13 people. Think Jesus and his apostles.

Lucas:
A bar is no place for a woman. You were right on that one.

Jacques:
April was more of a man than most of the sissies that hang around here.

Jacques:
What blood type are you?

Ben:
O.

Jacques:
O's good. No threat in O.

Ben:
Well, what blood type are you?

Jacques:
F***in' A.

Jacques:
I don't really feel like eating an animal tonight. Can't you prepare something without a face? Like an octopus or something?

Jacques:
Women can seem cute and charming on the surface, but underneath they're the same universal b*tch.

Jacques:
It's amazing how broccoli always makes you fart. In a way, broccoli is the embodiment of fart. If you could capture a piece of fart, materialize it, I imagine it would look pretty much like this. The incarnation of fart.

Nurse Mona:
Oh, Jacques, not again. Why can't you just die?

Jacques:
Good to see you, too, Olivia.

Jacques:
God-damn, you're like a piece of sh*t that just won't flush. Now get the f*** out of here before I get rude.