полезное /  адвокат дьявола /  devil's advocate sentences








Devil's advocate sentenses


«The newest attorney at the world's most powerful law firm has never lost a case. But he's about to lose his soul.»

«Speak of the devil»

«Devil begins and wins.»


As your attorney, I'm advising you to keep the fuck away from me.


It was a nice run, Kev. Had to close out someday. Nobody wins them all.


Kevin Lomax: Let's get rid of Number four, six. I'd say lose Number twelve, but the prosecutor's gonna fuck up and do it for us.

Meisel: Number six? You're kidding, right? She's my first choice.

Kevin Lomax: She's my first pass.

Meisel: And four? With the dreadlocks? That's crazy. That's a defendant's juror.

Kevin Lomax: Did you see his shoes?

Meisel: Look, kid, maybe down in Florida you are the next big thing. This is New York. We're not squeezing oranges here.

Kevin Lomax: He polishes those shoes every night. He makes his own clothes. He looks like a brother with an attitude, but I see a man with a gun under his bed. And woe betide the creature who steps into his garden. Number six... your favorite... she's damaged goods.

Meisel: She's a Catholic schoolteacher. Believes in human frailty...

Kevin Lomax: No. Something's missing from her. She's wrong. She wants on this jury. Somebody hurt her and she wants revenge.


That's our secret: kill you with kindness.


John Milton: I was sure you had a secret.

Kevin Lomax: The men's room. Upstairs men's room in the Duval County courthouse. There's a hole in the wall to the next room. I spent five years listening to juries deliberate.


There's a chicken, plays tic-tac-toe, never loses. He's famous.

Stay in the trenches. Only way I travel.

You use it. You embrace it. And then you move on.

John Milton: It's your wife! She's sick, she needs you. She's got to come first. All right, wait a minute. Do you mean the possibility of leaving this case has never entered your mind?

Kevin Lomax: You know what scares me? I quit the case, she gets better... and I hate her for it. I don't want to resent her. I've got a winner here. I've got to nail this fucker down and put it behind me. Just get it done. Then... then... put all my energy into her.

John Milton: I stand corrected.


You sharpen the human appetite to the point where it can split atoms with its desire. You build egos the size of cathedrals. Fiber-optically connect the world to every eager impulse. Grease even the dullest dreams with these dollar-green, gold-plated fantasies until every human becomes an aspiring emperor, becomes his own god. As we're scrambling from one deal to the next, who's got his eye on the planet? As the air thickens, the water sours, even bees' honey takes on the metallic taste of radioactivity and it just keeps coming, faster and faster. There's no chance to think, to prepare. It's buy futures, sell futures, when there is no future. We got a runaway train, boy. We got a billion Eddie Barzoons all jogging into the future. Every one of them is getting ready to fistfuck God's ex-planet, lick their fingers clean, as they reach out toward their pristine cybernetic keyboards to tote up their fucking billable hours. And then it hits home. You got to pay your own way, Eddie. It's a little late in the game to buy out now.


Maybe God threw the dice once too often. Maybe He let us all down.


Kevin Lomax: What are you?

John Milton: I have so many names.

Kevin Lomax: Satan.

John Milton: Call me Dad.


Vanity is definitely my favorite sin. Kevin, it's so basic. Self-love. The all-natural opiate.


John Milton: You know, I'll tell you, boy... guilt it's like a bag of fucking bricks. All you got to do is set it down.

Christabella Andreoli: I know what you're going through. I've been there. Just come here. Come here. Let it go.

Kevin Lomax: I can't do that.

John Milton: Who are you carrying all those bricks for? God? Is that it? God? I'll tell you... let me give you... let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do? I swear, for his own amusement, his own private, cosmic, gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look, but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, but don't swallow. And while you're jumping from one foot to the next, what is He doing? He's laughing his sick, fucking ass off! He's a tightass! He's a sadist! He's an absentee landlord! Worship that? Never!

Kevin Lomax: «Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven», is that it?

John Milton: Why not? I'm here on the ground with my nose in it since the whole thing began! I've nurtured every sensation man has been inspired to have! I cared about what he wanted and I never judged him! Why? Because I never rejected him, in spite of all his imperfections! I'm a fan of man! I'm a humanist. Maybe the last humanist. Who, in their right mind, Kevin, could possibly deny the 20th century was entirely mine? All of it, Kevin! All of it. Mine. I'm peaking, Kevin. It's my time now. It's our time.


Freedom, baby, is never having to say you're sorry.



Kevin Lomax: What about love?

John Milton: Overrated. Biochemically no different than eating large quantities of chocolate.