In Vegas, everybody's gotta watch everybody else.
There are three ways of doing things around here: the right way, the wrong way, and the way that *I* do it. I mean, how much more were they gonna take? So, they made an example of him and his brother: they buried them while they were still breathing. But this time, when I heard him say 'a couple of hundred yards down the road', I gave myself 50-50. Normally, my prospects of coming back alive from a meeting with Nicky were 99 out of 100. I mean, what were they going to do, muscle Nicky? Nicky was the muscle. When he lost, he told the bookies to go f*** themselves. Nicky's methods of betting weren't scientific, but they worked. And if you beat him with a gun, you better kill him, because he'll keep comin' back and back until one of you is dead. You beat him with a knife, he comes back with a gun. You beat Nicky with fists, he comes back with a bat. No matter how big a guy might be, Nicky would take him on. Otherwise, what's the point? And for a while, I believed, that's the kind of love I had. You've got to give them the key to everything that's yours. When you love someone, you've gotta trust them.
