There are no f***ing rules. F***ing game is rigged.
There are different kinds of wrong.
Then, tragically, you will have wasted yet another day in a life you’ve already misspent in the service of the City of Baltimore.[Roland ‘Prez’ Pryzbylewski: What if they’re not sneaking anything off this time? What then?]
The king stay the king.
The gods are f***ing you, you find a way to f*** them back. It’s Baltimore, gentlemen. The gods will not save you.
The Bunk is strictly a suit-and-tie motherf***er. At all hazards, a man must keep up appearances. Dignity, I say. Dignity above all, Governor.
The Bunk can’t swim. I ain’t too good at floating, either.
Sometimes with the bureaucracy, the one hand don’t know what the other is all about.[to Stringer]
Sometimes things just got to play hard.
So, one thieving politician trumps 22 dead bodies. Good to know.
Shoot, I done lost count. Enough, though, not to take it personal.[Maurice ‘Maury’ Levy: How many times have you been arrested as an adult, Mr. Little?]
Shame is some tricky s***, ain’t it? Makes you feel like you want to change, and then beats you back down when you think you can’t.
