Everybody Pays Agains the Rising of the Tide

Photos

Quotes

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : How old are you, Amsterdam?

  Amsterdam Vallon : I'chiliad not sure, sir. I never did quite effigy it.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : I'm forty-seven. Forty-7 years old. You know how I stayed live this long? All these years? Fear. The spectacle of fearsome acts. Somebody steals from me, I cut off his hands. He offends me, I cut out his tongue. He rises against me, I cut off his caput, stick it on a expressway, enhance information technology loftier upward so all on the streets tin can encounter. That'due south what preserves the order of things. Fright.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : At my challenge, by the ancient laws of combat, nosotros have met at this chosen ground, to settle for good and all who holds sway over the Five Points: usa natives, born right wise to this fine state, or the foreign hordes defiling information technology.

  Native Gangs : Aye.

  Priest Vallon : Past the ancient laws of combat, I accept the challenge of the and so called "natives." They plague our people at every turn, just from this solar day out, they shall plague united states no more than. For let information technology be known, that the hand that tries to strike u.s.a. from this land shall be swiftly cutting down.

  Irish gaelic Gangs : YEAH.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Then may the Christian Lord guide my hand, against your Roman popery.

  Priest Vallon : Gear up to receive the truthful Lord!

  [the enemy gangs rush into battle]

• Pecker 'The Butcher' Cut : Here's the matter. I don't requite a tuppenny fuck about your moral conundrum, you meat-headed shit-sack. That's more or less the thing. And I want you to leave there... You, nobody else. None of your petty minions. I want you to become out there. And I want you to punish the person who'south responsible for murdering this poor little rabbit. Is that understood?

• Boss Tweed : You killed an elected official?

  Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : Who elected him?

  Boss Tweed : You don't know what you've done to yourself.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : [taps his drinking glass eye with a knife] I know your works. You are neither cold nor hot. So because yous are lukewarm, I will spew yous out of my oral fissure. You tin build your filthy world without me. I took the father. Now I'll have the son. You lot tell young Vallon I'm gonna paint Paradise Square with his blood. Two coats. I'll festoon my bedchamber with his guts. As for you lot, Mr. Tammany-fucking-Hall, you come up downwardly to the Points again, and you'll be dispatched by my ain hand. Get back to your celebration and let me eat in peace.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : You. Whatever your name is... what is your proper name?

  Amsterdam Vallon : Amsterdam, sir.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Amsterdam... I'm New York... don't you never come in here empty handed again, you gotta pay for the pleasure of my visitor.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : You encounter this knife? I'm gonna teach yous to speak English with this fucking pocketknife!

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : He was the only man I ever killed worth remembering.

• Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : Thank God. I die a true American.

• Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : Mulberry Street... and Worth... Cross and Orange... and Little Water. Each of the Five Points is a finger. When I close my hand information technology becomes a fist. And, if I wish, I can turn information technology against y'all.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : I killed the last honorable man, xv years agone. Since so it's... You seen his portrait downstairs?

  Amsterdam Vallon : Mm-hmm.

  Beak 'The Butcher' Cut : 'S your mouth all glued-up with cunny juice? I asked y'all a question!

  Amsterdam Vallon : [angrily] I said I *seen* it, sir.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : [smiling] Oh, you lot got a murderous rage in you! I similar it. So much life boiling upwardly in you lot. That's skilful!

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : You mother-whoring Irish nigger.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Is this it, Priest? The Pope's new ground forces? A few crusty bitches and a scattering of rag-tags?

  Priest Vallon : Now, at present, Bill, you swore this was a battle betwixt warriors, not a bunch of Miss Nancys. So warriors is what I brought.

  [more Irish gangs make it]

  O'Connell Guard Leader : The O'Connell Guard!

  Plug Uglies Leader : The Plug Uglies!

  Shirt Tails Leader : The Shirt Tails!

  Chichesters Leader : The Chichesters!

  Twoscore Thieves Leader : The Xl Thieves!

  Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : Bene.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Why don't you burn him, see if his ashes plow green.

• Dominate Tweed : You may or may non know, Bill, that everyday I become down to the waterfront with hot soup for the Irish as they come ashore. Its function of building a political base.

  Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : I've noticed you at that place, you may accept noticed me.

  Dominate Tweed : Indeed I accept. Throwing torrents of corruption to every single person who steps off those boats.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : [gleefully] If only I had the guns, Mr. Tweed, I'd shoot each and every one of them before they set up pes on American soil.

• Dominate Tweed : That'south the building of our country correct in that location, Mr. Cutting. Americans aborning.

  Neb 'The Butcher' Cutting : I don't see no Americans. I encounter trespassers, Irish harps. Exercise a chore for a nickel what a nigger does for a dime and a white man used to get a quarter for. What have they done? Proper noun ane thing they've contributed.

  Boss Tweed : Votes.

  Neb 'The Butcher' Cut : Votes, you say? They vote how the archbishop tells them, and who tells the archbishop? Their king in the pointy hat what sits on his throne in Rome.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : The Priest and me, we lived past the aforementioned principles. Information technology was only organized religion divided usa. He gave me this, yous know? That was the finest chirapsia I ever took. My face was lurid. My guts was pierced, my ribs was all mashed up. And when he came to finish me, I couldn't look him in the eye. He spared me, because he wanted me to live in shame. This was a cracking man. A great man. So I out out the eye that looked away, I sent information technology to him wrapped in bluish paper. I would've cutting them both out if I could accept fought him blind. And I rose dorsum upwardly again with a total heart... and buried him in his own claret. He was the only human I ever killed worth remembering.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : A *real* native is someone who is willing to dice fighting for his state. There's nix more to it.

• Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : My begetter gave his life, making this country what it is. Murdered by the British with all of his men on the twenty fifth of July, anno domini, 1814. Do you call up I'yard going to assistance y'all befoul his legacy, by giving this state over to them, what's had no hand in the fighting for it? Why, considering they come off a boat crawling with lice and begging y'all for soup.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Everything you see belongs to me, to one degree or another. The beggars and newsboys and quick thieves here in Paradise, the sailor dives and gin mills and blind tigers on the waterfront, the anglers and amusers, the she-hes and the Chinks. Everybody owes, everybody pays. Because that's how yous stand upward against the rising of the tide.

• Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : Nosotros hold in our hearts the memory of our fallen brothers whose claret stains the very streets we walk today. Besides on this night we pay tribute to the leader of our enemies, an honorable human being, who crossed over bravely, fighting for what he believed in. To defeat my enemy, I extinguish his life, and consume him every bit I eat these flames. In laurels of Priest Vallon.

• Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : That, my friends, is the minority vote.

• [as a human is virtually to be hung]

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : That's a fine locket. I'll give y'all a dollar for information technology.

  Arthur : It was me mother's...

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Dollar and a half?

  Arthur : Washed.

• Boss Tweed : You're a good 1 for the fighting, Bill. But you can't fight forever.

  Pecker 'The Butcher' Cut : I can go down doing it.

  Boss Tweed : And you volition!

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : What did you say?

  Boss Tweed : I said, you're turning your back on the future.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Non our future.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : I took the male parent, now I'll take the son.

• Happy Jack : I'thou paid to uphold the law.

  Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : What in Heaven's name are you talking most?

• Boss Tweed : Nib, I tin't get a days piece of work done for all the good citizens coming in here to harass me most crime in the Points. Some even go so far as to accuse Tammany of connivance in this then-called rampant criminality. What am I to practice? I tin't have this. Something has to be washed.

  Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : What do you have in heed?

  Dominate Tweed : I don't know. I retrieve maybe we should hang someone.

  Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : Who?

  Boss Tweed : No one important, necessarily. Average men will practise. Dorsum alley amusers with no affiliations.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : How many?

  Boss Tweed : 3 or iv.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Which?

  Boss Tweed : Four.

• Neb 'The Butcher' Cut : Well draw it mildly son. Happy Jack don't fill his lungs without I tell him he may do and so.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Now that y'all've had a sense of taste of my mutton, how practise you like information technology?

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : He own't earned a death! He ain't a death at my hands! No, he'll walk amidst you marked with shame, a freak worthy of Barnum's Museum of Wonders. God's but human, spared by the Butcher.

• Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : [about Priest] Ears and noses will be the trophies of the day. But no hand shall touch him. NO paw shall touch him! He'll cross over whole. With honor.

• Neb 'The Butcher' Cut : On the seventh mean solar day the Lord rested, but before that he did, he squatted over the side of England and what came out of him... was Ireland. No criminal offence son.

  Amsterdam Vallon : Nah, none taken, sir. I grew up here. All I ever knew of Ireland was from the talk of the others at the orphan asylum.

  Pecker 'The Butcher' Cut : And which part of that excrementitious island where your forebears spawned?

  Amsterdam Vallon : I've been told Kerry, I lost proof of it in my language at the asylum.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Hey, have you met Amsterdam? He near fish-hooked McGloin.

• Neb 'The Butcher' Cutting : Annihilation in your pockets?

  Jenny : I ain't started working nonetheless.

• Neb 'The Butcher' Cutting : Is this the Pope's new army?

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Don't mind him. He used to exist an Irishman.

• Neb 'The Butcher' Cutting : Alright, line 'm upwardly. It'southward Election Day!

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Careful, Tweedy. The Mort's Frenchified.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : [to Amsterdam, while watching an African American man dancing an Irish jig on pinnacle of a table in a brothel] Look at that. What in Christ'due south name is that? Rhythms of the Night Continent thrown into the kettle with an Irish gaelic shindig. Stir it around a few times, pull it out, it's a fine American mess. A jig doing a jig.

• Miss Schermerhorn : How practise you do, Mr. Cut?

  [extends her mitt]

  Beak 'The Butcher' Cutting : As of this moment, extremely well. Give thanks you. How do you do?

  [leans down and smells her paw]

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cut : Orangish blossoms. Delicious.

  Happy Jack : Mr. Cutting is...

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : [to Mr. Schermerhorn] What a peach! You lot had a fine career on the stage.

  Happy Jack : ...i of the V Points local...

  Mrs. Schermerhorn : Please to meet you, sir.

  Happy Jack : ...leaders.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Mr. Greeeley!

  Horace Greeley : Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cut.

  Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : The Five Points welcomes you to these streets and you shall pass in safety.

  Happy Jack : Oh, I'll run into to their safety. Thank you, Bill. This style. Expert day lads. Criminals who brag a dote show, you see.

  Horace Greeley : [walking abroad] He knows who I am.

  Happy Jack : Oh, in deed sir. You're well known in these parts.

  Horace Greeley : I find that - strangely flattering.

• Nib 'The Butcher' Cutting : This is a night for Americans!

• Neb 'The Butcher' Cut : [after stabbing Priest] Await to me! Who is this under my pocketknife!

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Yous get to know a lot past butchering meat. We're fabricated up of the same things. Mankind and blood. Tissue. Organs. I dearest to work with pigs. The nearest thing in nature to the flesh of a man, is the mankind of a pig.

• Bill The Butcher : This is a day for America.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Civilization is crumbling

• Pecker 'The Butcher' Cutting : That'southward the spirit boys. Become off and die for your blackie friends. We should take run a ameliorate man against Lincoln when we had the run a risk.

• Beak 'The Butcher' Cut : Priest Vallon died a noble death. Merely his Dead Rabbits is *washed* and outlawed! Let no i even speak their proper noun from this fourth dimension on.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : These two are merely a pair of bug eating sons of Irish gaelic bitches. Simply like you.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : What'due south that word?

  Amsterdam Vallon : Eh, information technology means bodysnatchers.

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : I didn't enquire the meaning. I asked the word.

  Amsterdam Vallon : Ghoul.

  Neb 'The Butcher' Cutting : Ghoul? That'south a practiced discussion. "Ghoul Gang Slaughters: A Fresh Outrage in the 5 Points." That'due south a notice you tin be proud of.

• Beak 'The Butcher' Cutting : I like a man who'due south willing to burn for his swag.

• Amsterdam Vallon : What happens at the finish?

  Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : And so we have ourselves a rowdydow! Ain't yous never been to the theatre before?

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : Amsterdam. Amsterdam! New York is calling you lot.

• Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting : [walking through an opium den] Rise and shine, rise and shine. In this great land of ours, fifty-fifty hop fiends go to vote.

tranheary1989.blogspot.com

Source: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0217505/characters/nm0000358

Share this post