Murphy:
I'm a widower. That's like catnip to a cat, in a town where the ladies outnumber you ten to one.
[
about his birthday cake]
Emma:
Okay, what is it? How old are you, Murphy?
Murphy:
Just set the damn thing on fire!
Murphy:
It might be the ball cock.
Emma:
Most problems start there.
Murphy:
I am in love for the last time in my life.
Emma:
And I am in love for the first time.
Murphy:
You are a miserable little son of a bitch, you know that? I don't know why she took you in the house... I'd bed you down with the dogs! And I'll tell you something else, mister, you may be a lot younger and stronger, but you're about to get your ass kicked from here to the state line... and I'm wearin' the boots that can do it!
Bobby Jack Moriarty:
You're a feisty old booger, aren't ya.
Murphy:
I thought we just settled that!
Emma:
Stay to dinner, Murphy?
Murphy:
I won't do that unless I'm still here at breakfast.
Emma:
How do you like your eggs?
Murphy:
I'm sixty.
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