Michael: It's a foolish man who builds his house in sand, baby.
Franklin: I don't think my boy Matthew was thinking trucks when he wrote that shit.

Ortega: What the fuck, Trevor?
Trevor: This is the fuck, my soggy friend! You are out of business. The Lost MC are out of business. The guns and crank in this area go through Trevor Philips Enterprise, or they ain't going!

Michael: Come back, we'll order pizza.
Trevor: Fuck you! Fuck your pizza. Fuck everything it stands for!

I’m not stoned at all. Hell no, not at all. Completely not stoned. I’m completely not stoned. I’m straight. Completely straight. I could do anything. Shitt, I could be a brain surgeon. Brain surgery, I could do that. Uhh, I shoulda been a surgeon. That’s what I shoulda been…

Floyd: You gotta go, both of you. My girlfriend, she'd kill me if she knew I had guests.
Trevor: Not much of a girlfriend if she don't like your family. Now would you get me a fucking drink? I'm not gonna ask you again!