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!

They damaged my stuff. They smash up my home. Damage my soul. Look at this... This, this, this, this statue here of Impotent Rage. This fucking meant more to me than Johnny K meant to anyone! And they smashed it! Those pathetic, midlife crisis, hog-riding, shaven-headed, fruity leather-chap-wearing fucking assholes!

Steve Haines: The problem with this job is I only get to know the criminals who are dumb enough to get themselves caught.
Michael: Only I didn't get myself caught. Remember? I turned myself in.
Steve Haines: That makes you doubly dumb.

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!

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…