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Sleuth - Gli insospettabili

Milo Tindle: Maggie never told me you were... such a manipulator. She told me you were no good in bed, but she never told me you were such a manipulator.
Andrew Wyke: She told you I was no good in bed?
Milo Tindle: Oh, yes.
Andrew Wyke: She was joking. I'm wonderful in bed.
Milo Tindle: I must tell her.

Andrew Wyke: I take a strictly moral position on all this. My wife is an adulteress. Actually, she should be stoned to death.

Andrew Wyke: I understand you're fucking my wife.
Milo Tindle: That's right.
Andrew Wyke: Right... Yes, right. So, we've cleared that up.
Milo Tindle: We have.
Andrew Wyke: I thought you might have denied it.
Milo Tindle: Why would I deny it?
Andrew Wyke: Well, she is my wife.
Milo Tindle: Yes, but she's fucking me.
Andrew Wyke: Oh, she's fucking you too, huh? Well, I'll be buggered. Ha ha. Sorry.
Milo Tindle: Yes, it's mutual.
Andrew Wyke: You take turns?
Milo Tindle: We fuck each other. That's what people do.
Andrew Wyke: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I follow.

Milo Tindle: Where's the ladder?
Andrew Wyke: What ladder?
Milo Tindle: The ladder! Where's it gone?
Andrew Wyke: It's not working. There was always a dodgy fuse on this. I'll phone the electrician in the morning.
Milo Tindle: In the morning? What about now?
Andrew Wyke: No, no, he'll be in bed. You know these country people, early to bed, early to rise. He's a nice chap, though. He's called Norman. Charming wife, Debbie. Three delightful kids. Oh, I just remembered. He's on vacation, he's taken the kids to Bermuda.
Milo Tindle: What? So I'm stuck up here for the rest of my life?
Andrew Wyke: Have patience. Stoicism is what's called for. Works wonders.

Andrew Wyke: The shortest way to a man's heart, as I'm sure you know, is humiliation. It binds you together.

Milo Tindle: I'm so glad you like my mind. Not many people like my mind. Quite a few people like my body... but i can't think of anyone who likes my mind.

Andrew Wyke: In this day and age, is marriage absolutely necessary? Isn't it a bit old-hat?

Milo Tindle: You speak Dutch yourself, do you?
Andrew Wyke: Yes, how did you know? I have a Dutch uncle.
Milo Tindle: Can't see any Italian translations.
Andrew Wyke: [Implying a double entendre] No, they're a funny lot, the Italians. Culture isn't really their thing.
Milo Tindle: Their salami's good though.
Andrew Wyke: Oh, is it?
Milo Tindle: Italian salami? Best in the world.
Andrew Wyke: Did you bring any with you?
Milo Tindle: No, I left it at home.
Andrew Wyke: Oh, shame.
Milo Tindle: We're gonna have if for supper tonight, with a couple of bottles of Valpolicella.

Andrew Wyke: So you're not well-known.
Detective Inspector Black: No, I'm a common-or-garden copper. Just catch sex criminals, perverts.
[sniff]
Detective Inspector Black: Homicidal maniacs.
Andrew Wyke: And what do you do with them when you catch them?
Detective Inspector Black: I generally cut their balls off.
[laugh]

Detective Inspector Black: Do you want to know my opinion of the newspapers?
Andrew Wyke: What?
Detective Inspector Black: Journalists are a bunch of prick-teasing cocksuckers.
Andrew Wyke: No.
Detective Inspector Black: That's right.
Andrew Wyke: I'm sorry, but isn't that a contradiction in terms?
Andrew Wyke: Is it?

Milo Tindle: If you think you're broke now, you'll be ten times broker by the time she's finished with you. She'll have your guts for garters.

Andrew Wyke: What's your background?
Milo Tindle: Me? Irish. Connemara. Spanish descent, by way of Uganda. My grandparents were slaves. My morther was a dark-eyed dusky beauty.

Andrew Wyke: How did she describe him?
Milo Tindle: Remote. Cold. Malevolent. Spiteful. Arrogant. Ruthless. Jealous. Paranoid. Criminal tendencies. Mentally unsound.
Andrew Wyke: That's me, all right.

Andrew Wyke: A great branch broke off a big tree and - flew through the air, through the skylight - as you can see. Act of God.
Detective Inspector Black: Had it in for you, did he?
Andrew Wyke: Who?
Detective Inspector Black: God.
Andrew Wyke: Oh, yes, he's always been a vicious bastard.
Andrew Wyke: You know what God's trouble is?
Detective Inspector Black: What?
Andrew Wyke: He has no father. He has no family roots. He's rootless. Nowhere to hang his hat, poor bugger. I pity him.

Andrew Wyke: Oh, never trust in love, chum. Love will kick you up the arse as soon as look at you.

Andrew Wyke: Why should I give her a divorce if you're both walking away with 88 pounds?
Milo Tindle: She wants a legal settlement. She wants part of your estate.
Milo Tindle: Never trust in legal justice. You know what legal justice is? It's farting "Annie Laurie" through a keyhole.

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