"There are many things you'll never understand. This is one of them."
[Holding a stack of dollars while looking at Frank's drawn gun] "You see, Frank, there are many kinds of weapons. And the only one that can stop that is this. Now, shall we get back to our little problem?"
"And it's very very funny when you've lots and lots of money to be horrible to those with none"
—The Chorus of the New York Upper Crust, How to Make your Own Gilbert and Sullivan Opera
Helena: I'm quite happy to finish my time and pay my debt to society. Peggy Peabody: Helena, for God's sake, pull yourself together. You're a Peabody. Helena: What difference does that make? Peggy Peabody: Peabody's don't have debts, darling. Not to anyone. And certainly not to society.
"Your Holiness," said a Sentry quietly and respectfully,"A diplomat from the Scottish Empire requests an audience." "Send him in, please," smiled Alferius, looking forward to this. The Scots had been mad enough to have their Cardinal vote against his predecessor, and then him! Now would come the grovelling, as their barely reconciled Empire desperately tried to keep clear of excommunication once more. Well, Alferius had plans for them, and he didn't think the Scots were going to like any of them. Now that he was Pope, there was no force short of God that could prevent him from having his own way, and HE was the one who decided what God "thought". The doors closed behind the Scottish Diplomat as he entered, and Alferius recognised Gille Calline The Balleol, a well known and well liked Diplomat who had dined with and maintained good relationships with Pope Stephanus. What he didn't recognize was the fixed expression of determination on the Diplomat's face, or the large sack he carried with him. Gille strode purposefully across the length of the office to the massive desk behind which sat the Pope, cursing himself for not standing earlier and now placing himself in a weak looking position. But he needn't have bothered, the normally subtle and careful Gille was acting under Prince Edmund's orders today, and he was anything but subtle. "Your Holiness," he grunted, upending the sack he held and pouring a massive pile of florins onto the desk,"You have no problem with the Scottish Empire." And Alferius, well known for his rather "uncatholic" tastes, stared at the money for only a few seconds before saying,"I have no problem with the Scottish Empire."
Eames: We need at least a good ten hours. Saito: Sydney to Los Angeles. One of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks. Cobb: He must be flying privately. Saito: Not if there was unexpected maintenance with his plane... Arthur: It would have to be a 747. Cobb: Why is that? Arthur: Because on a 747 the pilot is up top, and the first class cabin is in the nose, so no one would walk through. But you'd have to buy out the entire cabin. And the first class flight attendant. Saito: I bought the airline. [Everyone looks at Saito incredulously] Saito:(awkward) It seemed neater. Cobb: Looks like we have our ten hours.
When I think of the good things that life has to give, I'm reluctantly forced to agree That the number of people who know how to live Is restricted, quite simply, to me.
For life is like cricket - we play by the rules - But the secret which few people know, Which keep men of class well apart from the fools Is to think up the rules as you go."