Mob Boss Quotes

I swear to God . . .” “God doesn’t come to this part of the house, so swear to me.” -Liam C

Vladimir leaned forward. “Never dilute vodka. Is sin.

The girls all know the score. No escape. No surrender. No mercy. We got to kill every last rat bastard one of them, every last one. Not for revenge. Not because they deserve it. not because it'll make the world a better place. We need a heap of bloody bodies so when the mob boss, Wallenquist, looks over his charts of profits and losses, he'll see what it cost him to mess with the girls of Old Town.

I’m not an easy lay, I won’t do a one-night stand, and my father is a mob boss with a short temper and a collection of guns. Still want to take me out?” - Ana Avdonin

least as far as I know) the first time I ever high-fived a mob boss.

I may have been a murderer, an underground mob boss, and a savage with no morals to speak of, but I was also whipped to the bone where my adoptive mother was concerned. “I’m the same usual shade of fucked-up as I’ve always been,

If the foreman had no experience in bossing a mob, they had no experience in being one. Members of a community, not elements of a collectivity, they were not moved by mass feeling; there were as many emotions there as there were people. And they did not expect commands to be arbitrary, so they had no practice in disobeying them. Their inexperience saved the passenger's life.

What is wrong with you?” I say in lieu of greeting. “You went to Morris’s dorm and declared your intentions?” He offers a faint smile. “Of course. It was the noble thing to do. I can’t be chasing after another guy’s girl without his knowledge.” “I’m not his girl,” I snap. “We went on one date! And now I’m never going to be his girl, because he doesn’t want to go out with me again.” “What the hell?” Logan looks startled. “I’m disappointed in him. I thought he had more of a competitive spirit than that.” “Seriously? You’re going to pretend to be surprised? He won’t see me again because your jackass self told him he couldn’t.” Astonishment fills his eyes. “No, I didn’t.” “Yes, you did.” “Is that what he told you?” Logan demands. “Not in so many words.” “I see. Well, what words did he actually use?” I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches. “He said he’s backing off because he doesn’t want to get in the middle of something so complicated. I pointed out that there’s nothing complicated about it, seeing as you and I are not together.” My aggravation heightens. “And then he insisted that I need to give you a chance, because you’re a—” I angrily air-quote Morris’s words “—‘stand-up guy who deserves another shot.’” Logan breaks out in a grin. I stab the air with my finger. “Don’t you dare smile. Obviously you put those words in his mouth. And what the hell was he jabbering about when he told me you and him were ‘family’?” All the disbelief I’d felt during my talk with Morris comes spiraling back, making me pace the bedroom in hurried strides. “What did you say to him, Logan? Did you brainwash him or something? How are you guys family? You don’t even know each other!” Strangled laughter sounds from Logan’s direction. I spin around and level a dark glower at him. “He’s talking about the joint family we created in Mob Boss. It’s this role-playing game where you’re the Don of a mob family and you’re fighting a bunch of other mafia bosses for territory and rackets and stuff. We played it when I went over there, and I ended up staying until four in the morning. Seriously, it was intense.” He shrugs. “We’re the Lorris crime syndicate.” I’m dumbfounded. Oh my God. Lorris? As in Logan and Morris? They fucking Brangelina’d themselves? “What is happening?” I burst out. “You guys are best friends now?” “He’s a cool guy. Actually, he’s even cooler in my book now for stepping down like that. I didn’t ask him to, but clearly he grasps what you refuse to see.” “Yeah, and what’s that?” I mutter. “That you and I are perfect for each other.” No words. There are no words to accurately convey what I’m feeling right now. Horror maybe? Absolute insanity? I mean, it’s not like I’m madly in love with Morris or anything, but if I’d known that kissing Logan at the party would lead to…this, I would have strapped on a frickin’ chastity gag.

On Rachel's show for November 7, 2012: We're not going to have a supreme court that will overturn Roe versus Wade. There will be no more Antonio Scalias and Samuel Aleatos added to this court. We're not going to repeal health reform. Nobody is going to kill medicare and make old people in this generation or any other generation fight it out on the open market to try to get health insurance. We are not going to do that. We are not going to give a 20% tax cut to millionaires and billionaires and expect programs like food stamps and kid's insurance to cover the cost of that tax cut. We'll not make you clear it with your boss if you want to get birth control under the insurance plan that you're on. We are not going to redefine rape. We are not going to amend the United States constitution to stop gay people from getting married. We are not going to double Guantanamo. We are not eliminating the Department of Energy or the Department of Education or Housing at the federal level. We are not going to spend $2 trillion on the military that the military does not want. We are not scaling back on student loans because the country's new plan is that you should borrow money from your parents. We are not vetoing the Dream Act. We are not self-deporting. We are not letting Detroit go bankrupt. We are not starting a trade war with China on Inauguration Day in January. We are not going to have, as a president, a man who once led a mob of friends to run down a scared, gay kid, to hold him down and forcibly cut his hair off with a pair of scissors while that kid cried and screamed for help and there was no apology, not ever. We are not going to have a Secretary of State John Bolton. We are not bringing Dick Cheney back. We are not going to have a foreign policy shop stocked with architects of the Iraq War. We are not going to do it. We had the chance to do that if we wanted to do that, as a country. and we said no, last night, loudly.

I need to shower before we head out.” “Do you want company?” He should tell her no. “Yes,” he managed to rasp out. Like she even needed to ask.

He wanted everything from her. All her kisses, her sexy looks… everything.

Freaking Fritos. Who the heck ate Fritos without dip or chili?

So you created firewalls for mob bosses? As an aside, if I started a band, Mob Boss Firewall would be an excellent name.

There’s being bad at small talk, and then there’s being so reticent that your coworkers assume you’ve recently testified against a mob boss, and I never knew how thin the line between the two was.

Vinny was flying on Learjets all over the country to gamble. The fact is, Vinny Gorgeous was the mirror image of John Gotti. The two mob bosses were degenerate gamblers. Vinny even got himself barred from Atlantic City.

There was some banging around in the hall, and Aunt Prue appeared in the doorway in an equally large and disturbing hat. This one was black, with a wraparound veil that made Aunt Prue look like the mother of a mob boss at his funeral.

As I found myself thrust into the Trump orbit, I once again was having flashbacks to my earlier career as a prosecutor against the Mob. The silent circle of assent. The boss in complete control. The loyalty oaths. The us-versus-them worldview. The lying about all things, large and small, in service to some code of loyalty that put the organization above morality and above the truth.

One of the greatest accusations against us by the cult was that we were “broad brushing” all the IFB churches, but with an estimated eight to ten thousand survivors speaking out on the Internet, telling the same stories from their experiences within IFB churches from all over the country, we finally put that accusation to rest. Dozens of public and private Facebook groups and blogs are now highlighting their abuses. That was precisely what the mob bosses feared: We could prove the entire cult was rife with sexual abuse cover-ups and we had a mountain of evidence to back up our assertions. To my knowledge there is no religious cult anywhere with more people speaking out through social media about their physical, emotional, sexual, and spiritual abuse than the former members of the IFB.

A cop lost his temper and rushed into the crowd to seize an agitator … and that was the last we saw of him for about three minutes. When he emerged, after a dozen others had rushed in to save him, he looked like some ragged hippie … the mob had stripped him of everything except his pants, one boot, and part of his coat. His hat was gone, his gun and gunbelt, all his badges and police decorations … he was a beaten man and his name was Lennox. I know this because I was standing beside the big plainclothes police boss who was shouting, “Get Lennox in the van!

Frank Partanna is in a private room in his restaurant in south central LA, drinking with his men and laughing at this cockeyed female he once fell in love with.

I didn’t know if she was looking at the wall or at me, but it didn’t matter,” he says.  “That dame was a wildcat in bed,

She says, “My idea of a mob boss is that they put contracts out on their enemies, and run drug, weapons, and prostitution rings. Is that what you do?” Her gaze is unflinching. I feel a warm flicker of pride. She really will make an excellent attorney. “No.” She stares at me, weighing the truth of my answer. “I feel like this might be a semantics issue. Let me rephrase. Is that what you have other people do for you?

Reno looked at Trina, who was slated to be the maid of honor, and that sparkle of excitement that had been in her eyes all week was gone. And he could just kick Shanks ass for putting his wife through this. And when Tommy found out. Geez.

You’re supposed to be the big boss.” Sam said nothing. The crowd hushed, ready to watch this one-on-one confrontation. “You’re the big boss of the freaks,” Zil yelled. “But you can’t do anything. You can shoot laser beams out of your hands, but you can’t get enough food, and you can’t keep the power on, and you won’t do anything about that murderer Hunter, who killed my best friend.” He paused to fill his lungs for a final, furious cry. “You shouldn’t be in charge.” “You want to be in charge, Zil? Last night you were running around trying to get a lynch mob together. And let’s not even pretend that wasn’t you responsible for graffiti I saw driving into town just now.” “So what?” Zil demanded. “So what? So I said what everyone who isn’t a freak is thinking.” He spit the word “freak,” making it an insult, making it an accusation. “You really think what we need right now is to divide up between freaks and normals?” Sam asked. “You figure that will get the lights turned back on? That will put food on people’s tables?

It’s a law enforcement axiom. But who better to help bust a crack dealer than another crack dealer? Who better to bring down a mob boss than another mobster? As long as there have been cops, they’ve been making deals with informants,

president Jimmy Hoffa and former Dallas boss gambler Benny Binion, would do something to jeopardize the possibility of legalized gambling in Arkansas.

I’d do a search for every one of these and try to reduce and replace wherever I could, looking to insert more telling action and the kind of character-specific movements and descriptions that will more accurately give dimension to the dialogue. What you’re looking for are details or actions demonstrating the emotional subtext of your character’s speech: A character who stares at the floor while saying “I promise to love you forever” might not mean it. Another who admits to a crime while trembling nervously in front of his mob boss employer might’ve been pressured into his confession, no matter how nakedly he recounts his supposed crime.

Improved Heart Creation: Allows the creation of Improved Hearts. Mobs created with Improved Hearts have a 25% increase to mutation chance and have 200% improved health regeneration when the dungeon is empty. Bosses created with Improved Hearts gain one extra ability. Improved Hearts provide +50% loot value. 1 Upgrade Point.

his father's murder and survives the ruthless battles to become a mob boss. Facing a life sentence, he causes havoc in the underworld when he agrees to testify against his associates and becomes the highest-ranking Mafia turncoat in US history.

I must’ve missed this part in the parenting handbook. Chapter 12: When fleeing from your mob boss husband, be sure to communicate the details of your escape with your nine-year-old son early and often so that you don’t stunt his psycho-emotional development. Also, always bring snacks to the movies.

Sitting here, across from one of the Isle’s most powerful men, it does not take much to imagine AJ carving someone open and ripping out their still beating heart, all the while wearing the same pretentious smirk that he is offering me.

I was certainly angry that, of all those messages Mrs. Campbell relayed, not a single one mentioned Ruby. DOWN SOUTH DRUG RING LINKED TO CHICAGO MOB, the Papers would scream. The death of the Tattooed Woman? A footnote somewhere below the fold. Who cared about her? I did. My boss did. We cared about Ruby and everyone like her.

When a mob in Valdosta, Georgia, in 1918 failed to find Sidney Johnson, accused of murdering his boss, Hampton Smith, they decided to lynch another black man, Haynes Turner, who was known to dislike Smith. Turner’s wife, Mary, who was eight months pregnant, protested vehemently and vowed to seek justice for her husband’s lynching. The sheriff, in turn, arrested her and then gave her up to the mob. In the presence of a crowd that included women and children, Mary Turner was “stripped, hung upside down by the ankles, soaked with gasoline, and roasted to death. In the midst of this torment, a white man opened her swollen belly with a hunting knife and her infant fell to the ground and was stomped to death.”[2]

When we rendezvoused, a little over an hour later, Claire and Emma told me they’d found three large dimensions among their search cluster, but none was terribly larger than any other. “In that case, I think I may have found it,” I said. “None of the dimensions I saw had a larger surface area, but one of them was twice as deep as all the others.” “Sounds promising,” Emma said. “How close did you get? Did you see any evidence of the Client?” “I got close enough to be able to see the outline of trees on the surface. There seemed to be some taller mounds forming. Maybe even a mountain. I didn’t see any movement though. Not mobs or the Client.” “Maybe he’s building an underground base?” Claire suggested. I shrugged. “Could be. I guess since no mobs have spawned yet, there’s no one for him to boss around or impress.” “Well, whatever it is,” Claire said. “If Jimmy’s right about the Client’s arrogance, he should be hiding somewhere in that dimension.” Emma nodded, but then her expression clouded with concern. “Don’t forget, the Client probably knows we’re here. The Rainbow Funga-Cow would’ve told him of our presence, I’m sure.” “So how do we do this?” Claire asked. “Should we just go there and start searching?” “Yep,” I said. “The sooner we find the Client, the sooner I can defeat him.” “Let’s hope that’s how it turns out,” Claire said. “I think we should be systematic about our search,” Emma said. “Why don’t we start at one corner of the dimension’s Overworld and search

As early as 1953, Hoover had authorized the creation of a small “Top Hoodlum Program” designed to target the most powerful mob bosses in major American cities. In the wake of Apalachin,

Too often, Black men are tried, convicted, and sentenced to long prison terms for the same crimes that white men commit with no legal consequences whatsoever. The pernicious racist and patriarchal fantasy of Black assault on “pure white womanhood,” a fantasy that incited lynch mobs in the past, still animates the public today. In those rare instances when a Black stranger attacks a white woman, the state spares no energy in hunting down and punishing the offender. But in reality most rapists are not strangers to their victims; they are acquaintances, bosses, dates, boyfriends, or husbands. Most men who rape white women in the United States are white. As we saw in Chapter 3, their odds of being caught or punished are close to nil.

Cade was the brother to one of the most powerful Italian mob bosses in the world, and his hacking skills made him potentially even more dangerous. Yet, no one, not even an Armanelli, could make them back down when it came to their baby sisters.

Working for a mob boss might finally work to his benefit.

Not being a criminal doesn't make someone a good person, or even safe.

Dante’s lips twisted. “Tristan Caine.” Morana could hear the same awe she felt in Dante’s voice, the fact that a fourteen-year-old boy had told that boss of an entire mob that he wouldn’t yield… “I’ve seen men, grown men, lick my father’s boot to remain in his favor, Morana. By the time I was eighteen, I thought there was not a single soul on this earth who could stand up to him. And then Tristan happened.

a pair of storefronts. Charlie Brody fell in love with and married a girl named Marion Cuomo, whose

The first headline read: MOB BOSS INDICTED ON 39 COUNTS. The basic story was as Reed Jasper described: Vasily Markov headed an organization of Russian émigrés who had long been suspected of involvement in counterfeiting, black marketeering, smuggling, extortion, and murder, but that it wasn’t until “an insider in Markov’s counterfeiting ring” turned state’s evidence that the grand jury could get an indictment. That insider was Clark Hewitt.

our battle with the Ur-Ghast, we didn't had some of the items then.

Selfishness, like Jimmy the Shrimp, works underground. Most people don’t even realize it is there, which is precisely why it is so dangerous. Selfishness works in secret, behind closed doors, on the black market, plotting and planning our destruction. Selfishness is the Mob boss of the soul. In fact, without selfishness, you wouldn’t have murder, hate, holocaust, slander, genocide, betrayal, or crooked lawyers—because those are all the convoluted results of Jimmy the Shrimp’s regime. Simply put, selfishness is the sickness behind all other sicknesses.

The Soviet party bosses and the men who ran their gulags and tortured dissidents in their mental wards were committed “antifascists,” too.

Revenge is the philosophy of dictators and mob bosses everywhere and always, used

Desmond FitzGerald, then Chief of the Far Eastern Division, was made head of the CIA's Cuban Task Force W after its former boss, William Harvey, the Agency's handler of the Mafia Castro assassination plots, had been caught still dealing with the Mob even after Robert Kennedy had issued a cease and desist order.

He was dangerous. He was moody. He was everything she should have never wanted in a man

She wasn’t sure what the end result of them giving in to their passion fully would be, but she suspected it was the kind of beautiful inferno she’d be a fool to miss.

She hoped it shed glitter all over his car. That way if she did die, she’d have a way to haunt him still. Glitter was impossible to eradicate. Impossible. Cliff kept his eyes on the road, though he clearly knew she was watching. He also said nothing. Fine. Liana reached for the radio, but Cliff batted her hand away. “I don’t want to even think about what kind of music a girl with a sparkly backpack listens to.

You’re a big, tough guy. Just take a drink of it. If it kills you, we know it’s poison.” He glared down at her, which of course did nothing to wipe the smug expression off her face. “Maybe we should get you to drink it,” he retorted. “That would solve two of my problems.” “Why don’t you two kids drink it together,” Ellis interjected. “Then this whole Romeo and Juliet thing you’ve got going on will finally reach its conclusion.

So you know that I’m the one who gets called in when people are being... difficult.” A cruel smile played on his lips. He was trying to scare her into doing what he said. It wouldn’t work. He wouldn’t hurt her, and Liana knew that. She had no doubts that he was tough, but she felt safe with him. It struck her now how odd that was.

Revenge is the philosophy of dictators and mob bosses everywhere and always, used to keep others in line with threats of economic ruin, violence, or worse.

In simple terms this evolutionary heritage is why our adrenal system leaps into high gear when the boss confronts and humiliates us in a meeting. Our bodies want to jump up and either run away or attack but we have to sit there and take it. It is unhealthy and excruciating.

I didn't text you because I thought you'd probably run in the other direction," I snapped. "Or maybe back to Bloomingdale's for another smooch session with Clare." "Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise." Emma held out her hand, and Gage and Anil each handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "You took bets on us?" I stared at them, aghast. "You gotta admit that you two were always an unlikely couple," Emma said, pocketing the cash. "Bad-boy rogue thief with dubious underworld affiliations and no fixed address. Hardworking cookie-cutter good girl who worked in a candy store, spent her Friday nights watching crime shows with her octogenarian landlady, showed up every Sunday for dinner with the fam, and never refused a meet and greet with a prospective husband because she didn't want to let her parents down." "I organized a heist," I protested. "I was arrested for trying to break into a museum. I robbed a mob boss. I got so drunk I passed out on the floor. I did bad things." "In a good-girl way. No selfishness involved.