You’re talking to the wrong white man, my friend. My people were the white man’s n***er when yours were still painting their faces and chasing zebras.[to Massive Genius]
You would think I was Hannibal Lecter before or something.[Carmela Soprano: I just think that’s very, very wonderful!]
You know, Tony, it’s a multiple choice thing with you. ‘Cause I can’t tell if you’re old-fashioned, you’re paranoid, or just a f***ing a**hole.
You keep prodding him with a stick. You light a candle to Saint Anthony. But I think you’re f***ed.[Christopher Moltisanti: What about the dead guy?]
You dig out my blue suit, you call up old man Coletti, and tell him not to put too much makeup on my face.[Carmela Soprano: What if something should happen?]
Yeah, but that’s where you’re wrong. You see, out there, it’s the 1990s, but in this house, it’s 1954. 1990s. 1954. So now and forever, I don’t want to hear any more sex talk, okay?[Meadow Soprano: It’s the 90s. Parents are supposed to discuss sex with their children.]