Best 158 quotes in «mafia quotes» category

I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown?

I'll make him an offer he can't refuse.

I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse.

I never write about CIA conspiracies or the FBI or mafia or anything like that because I just dont understand that world. But I think I do understand individual human harmfulness.

It's like the mafia. Once you're in - your in. There's no getting out.

Italian-Americans are not the Mafia.

Russia's biggest problem is organized crime and its leaders are influenced by the Russian mafia. But it's not right to call it a Russian mafia, it's a Jewish mafia.

Ours is a government of checks and balances. The Mafia and crooked businessmen make out checks, and the politicians and other compromised officials improve their bank balances.

Russia is a mafia state today, and Putin is its top godfather.

Now everybody is mafia. You got the Russian mafia, the Mexican mafia. Everybody is mafia these days.

The myths die hard, especially within the Mafia.

The Italian mafia, they're very [into] construction. They're in a whole different way of operating than they did back in the '20s.

There is no single field of activity, not a single institution, free of the most brutal sort of corruption. Russia has bred a world-class mafia.

There are Mafia families that have bought magnificent houses on the North Shore, although not yet the great estates because they don't want that kind of high profile.

The racing bug is never going to go away. It's like the Mafia.

There is no good reason good can't triumph over evil, if only angels will get organized along the lines of the mafia.

There is no rule of law until the Mafia needs lawyers.

The triumph of anything is a matter of organization.

What I've called "the Mafia doctrine" in many publications: when the Godfather issues an edict, others must obey, or else. It's too dangerous to allow disobedience. A leading principle of world affairs - though, of course, officials and commentators put it more politely.

They's making it worse, the labor movement got the mafia curse.

We can learn from this history that when the Department of Justice, the FBI, the DEA, and the state and local police and prosecutors were combined in a task force directed by and at the mafia, when they looked at the mafia and really went after them, they were able to get great, great successes and prosecutions out of them in seizing their business interest, in a lot of things; including their business interest, taking them away, and removing their infiltration from legitimate areas of society.

We should not let this be like the history of the mafia which was allowed to grow into a nationwide organization which infiltrated and corrupted so many areas of society for such a long period of time.

What is "credibility"? It's a very familiar notion. It's basically the notion that is central to the Mafia. So suppose say the Godfather produces some kind of edict and says you're going to have to pay protection money.

Actually, in its essence, democracy is a totalitarian ideology, though not as extreme as Nazism, fascism or communism. In principle, no freedom is safe in a democracy, every aspect of the individual's life is potentially subject to government control. At the end of the day, the minority is completely at the mercy of the whims of the majority. Even if a democracy has a constitution limiting the powers of the government, this constitution too can be amended by the majority. The only fundamental right you have in a democracy, besides running for office, is the right to vote for a political party. With that solitary vote you hand over your independence and your freedom to the will of the majority.

You don't need to buy a $7 billion company to penetrate maritime security. The Mafia doesn't buy FedEx to smuggle.

When we were doing 'The Sopranos', I used to love that about it. There were rules, Mafia codes you had to go by, but the code is ridiculous. It's a code among sociopaths.

Work harder, work longer, and earn less because the mafia needs your money.

A Conspiracy Theory that took hold was introduced by Anthony “Tony” Summers, the respected author of The Kennedy Conspiracy, published in 1980 and again in 1998 as “Not in Your Lifetime.” He believes that anti-Castro activists, funded by Mafia mobsters who had been ousted from Cuba, killed Kennedy. Summers believes that members of the CIA took part in this conspiracy and named the people he suspected. Summers also stated in an article published in the National Enquirer magazine, on October 25, 2013, that Lee Harvey Oswald didn’t act alone. The National Enquirer stated that Herminio Diaz, born in Cuba in 1923, had, in 1948, shot Pipi Hernandez, who was a Dominican exile employed at the naval base at Guantanamo. This killing took place at the Cuban Consulate in Mexico. In 1957, he was involved with an assassination attempt against President José Figueres of Costa Rica, who incidentally was a trained Army Ranger and a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point. According to JFKFacts published on May 27, 2014, General Fabián Escalante, the historian of Cuban State Security and Castro’s former bodyguard, said that the assassin Herminio Diaz, along with Eladio del Valle and three American mobsters: Richard Gaines, Lenny Patrick, and Dave Yara, were the shooters at Dealey Plaza.

Alessandro burst out laughing and Bree wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t think about the past anymore. Let’s move forward and let’s be happy.” Alessandro cocked an eyebrow. “Is that an order, young lady?” “Yes, Sir. From this second on, you’re not allowed to think about how much we hurt each other and how stupid you were-“ “How stupid I-“ “Ah!” Bree pressed her fingers against his lips. “How stupid we both were.” “And what would the punishment be for disobeying such an order?” Alessandro asked, his fingers trailing down her back. “Oh it would be very bad,” Bree assured him playfully. “Very?” Alessandro asked, his eyes lit with amusement. “Oh yes. Brutal. Vicious even.” “Oh that does sound terrible,” Alessandro agreed. “There might even be whips,” Bree warned. “Oh dear,” Alessandro smiled.

After the Stonewall riots the gay activists had their idealistic hearts in the right place but it turned out they had underestimated the realpolitik of organized crime. Indeed, as gay liberation blossomed in the wild 1970s the bars and bathhouses became increasingly lucrative enterprises, and the Mafia had no intention of abandoning a racket it had controlled for decades. The Mafia families maintained their control by exercising the proverbial carrot and stick. The wise guys seemingly embraced the gay rights movement and cut more so-called Auntie Gays into the action as their fronts, and resorted to violent threats and sometimes murder against others who refused to play ball with the crime families. There were few legitimate businessmen in gay nightlife of the 1970s.

Alessandro shrugged and pushed the blade in, dragging it down the man’s skin, making him cry out. He struck him again with his fist, blood spurting onto Alessandro as well. “Did Arturo tell you that the mother of my child was in that limo? She’s carrying my baby inside of her, and that her son was in the limo too? I’m sure he did. I’m sure he left explicit instructions as to who exactly you were supposed to dispose of, didn’t he?” “He’ll kill me. I swear, he’ll kill me,” the man cried, tears mixing in with his blood. “Next, I’ll take an eye, you snivelling little shit!” Alessandro growled, raising his bloody blade to the man’s left eyeball. The unmistakable scent of urine filled the air. Alessandro stepped back in disgust and turned to Jason and his other man, Marty, two of the best Dardano soldiers, loyal and efficient. They took his cue and slipped on their brass knuckles. “Just say the words, ol’ boy, and we’ll stop this,” “Fuck you,” the man shouted. Alessandro smirked. “Such defiance for a man who just pissed himself.” He crossed his arms as Marty and Jason went to work. It only took a minute. “All right. Okay! Stop! Stop! Fine, I’ll talk!

Alessandro! Will!!” He could hear Brianna’s voice a few seconds before his head came up through to the next floor. Stubborn, bloody woman! he cursed. “Oh God, Will!” Bree screamed. “What happened?” She rushed towards them, coughing as she grabbed for her son. He shifted his weight to hand him over to her, but the movement sent another bolt of screaming pain from his ankle up to his leg and Alessandro lost his footing, falling back into the basement. Alessandro!” Bree screamed, and then he heard no more.

A little of this caviar finds its way to the fish restaurants around Istanbul's Taksim Square, but the bulk is sent on to the United Arab Emirates to be enjoyed by wealthy Westerners and Arabs in the preposterous hotels that have set new standards in unnecessary opulence.

A loud clang of what sounded like a tray hitting the marble kitchen floor made Bree jump and Gianni go wide eyed with apparent terror. He covered his ears and shook his head. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” He fell over and covered his head. Bree rushed over to him as he began shrieking fearfully. “Maaammaaaaaa!” “Is okay, Gianni. Just a ting falled down,” Will said patting Gianni’s back but Bree noticed her little boy’s hand was shaking. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy’s here. That’s okay,” she crouched down and gathered Gianni into her arms. “Bang! Mama. It bang!” he wailed into her shoulder, trembling in her arms. “It was just a loud noise. Cook just dropped something, probably a whole big plate of yucky beets. Isn’t that funny?” she said, forcing a laugh. Jesus Christ, how much more violence would her children be forced to endure? Again, Bree felt selfish for bringing her innocent babies into the Dardano world. Gianni looked up at her, picking up on her tone he gave a small watery smile. “Ucky ee “Yucky yucky beets,” Bree repeated bouncing him lightly as her heart returned to its normal rhythm in her chest. Gianni giggled and shuddered against her as the last remnants of his fear dissipated. Bree looked over at Will. “You okay, sweetie?” Will blinked and looked over at her, wide eyed and his lower lip quivered, but he set his chin like she knew he’d watched Alessandro do and nodded. “I bwave. I nod scared.” Bree smiled at him and kissed his cheek as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Wow. That is pretty brave. I know I was scared when I first heard the noise.” “Really?” Will asked hesitantly. “Definitely,” Bree nodded. Gianni echoed the gesture. “Well, dat’s diffen. You’s a girl.” “Oh, is that so?” Bree asked setting Gianni on the blanket next to her. “So you think ’cause mommy’s a girl she’s a fraidy cat. Huh? Huh?” she asked poking him. Will curled in on himself and giggled as he tried to avoid her fingers.

Among the organizational means that humans have used to commit aggression against each other, those recognized as governments have been by far the most harmful. However they have not been the only institutional instruments of aggression. Other institutions – churches, corporations, groups such as the mafia and the narco-cartels, etc. – have also committed aggression on a scale that exceeds the individual capacity for evil. Although they did not call themselves governments, one could say they acted governmentally. Meanwhile, though rarely, some governments have mostly left people in peace. Therefore I say that government is as government does.

Among other jobs that we did, my brother Bill and I were shoe shine boys in Jersey City and Hoboken during the World War II years. We went from tavern to tavern shining shoes for ten cents and hopefully a generous tip. The Hoboken waterfront bristled with starkly looming, grey hulled Liberty ships. Secured to the piers facing River Street, they brandished their ominous cannons towards what I thought was City Hall. An unappreciated highlight was when I shined Frank Sinatra’s shoes at a restaurant on Washington Street, just west from the Clam Broth House. There was no doubt but that Hoboken was an exciting place during those years. Years later I met Frank at Jilly's saloon, a lounge on West 52d Street in Manhattan, for a few drinks and a little fun around town. Even though I was an adult by then, he still called me “kid!” It was obvious that Frank Sinatra enjoyed friendly relations with Mafia notables such as Carlo Gambino, “Joe Fish” Fischetti and Sam Giancana. Meyer Lansky was said to have been a friend of Sinatra’s parents in Hoboken. During this time Sinatra spoke in awe about Bugsy Siegel and was in an AP syndicated photograph, seen in many newspapers, with Tommy “Fatso” Marson, Don Carlo Gambino 'The Godfather', and Jimmy 'The Weasel, Fratianno. Little wonder that the Federal Bureau of Investigation kept their eye on Sinatra for almost 50 years. A memo in FBI files revealed that Sinatra felt that he could be of use to them. However, it is difficult to believe that Sinatra would have become an FBI informer, better known as a “rat.” It was in May of 1998 when Sinatra, being treated at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles told his wife Barbara, “I’m losing.” Frank Sinatra died on May 14th at 82 years of age. It is alleged that he was buried with the wedding ring from his ex-wife, Mia Farrow, which she slid unnoticed into his suit pocket during his “viewing.” Aside from his perceived personal and public image, Frank Sinatra’s music will shape his enduring legacy for decades to come. His 100th birthday was celebrated at the Hollywood Bowl on Wednesday, July 22, 2015. Somehow Frank will never age and his music will never fade….

And the single action scam was dispensing cash like water gushing down Niagara Falls.

Are they Russian by way of the Ozarks?

A valid contract requires voluntary offer, acceptance, and consideration.

Alessandro watched as Luke burrowed his nose in the snow and then shook his small body. “Well, that depends on whether you want a male or a female horse.” “Mmm. I tink I want a boy horsie. Girl horsies have babies and dat’s too much trouble.” Alessandro bit back a laugh. “Male horse it is then. Let’s see. My favourite horse’s name is Abbott.” “A But?” Will asked laughing. “Abbott,” Alessandro corrected. “Chimney,” Will suddenly decided, stopping. Alessandro blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘Chimney’?” “It make sense,” Will assured him. “Santa come down da chimney and he is my pesent, right? So his name be Chimney.” “I agree. Quite logical,” Alessandro nodded. “Well, dat one ting on my list. Der be more.” “Duly noted,” he said.

Alex cornered her right before she was going to make an appointment at the nurse’s station to see him. “Bree, I’m going to be referring you to Carlo from now on,” Alex informed her. “I think in light of recent events it would be a conflict of interest for me to continue to be your doctor.” “Is that right?” Bree asked leaning her elbow on the counter and raising an eyebrow. “Yes, I wouldn’t feel comfortable about it considering what you did to Carrie.” “Aw, that’s nice,” Bree smiled sarcastically, staring up at his smug self-righteous face. “Nice to know this place has such moral upstanding doctors.” “Yes, so I will be referring you to him from now on,” Alex said, clenching his jaw. “Great,” Bree said, fighting not to roll her eyes. “Have a good afternoon,” he said curtly and turned to walk away. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Bree. The evil Bree won though. “You too, Dr. Home Wrecker.” Alex’s step faltered but he didn’t turn around.

Alessandro gathered her into his arms and flipped her over so that she was on top of him, her blonde hair falling over him like a gold curtain. The strands tickled his face as she righted herself over him. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as he pushed up inside of her, and Alessandro reached up, bringing her mouth down, wanting to taste that swollen lip. Her breath wafted over his face, and he grabbed her hips, pulling her down as he pushed up deeper, wanting to fill her to her very soul.

Alessandro…we should go down-” “Oh I agree.” He smiled, mischievous brown eyes lifting to hers. “Downstairs,” she corrected. “I like my meaning better,” and with that he went down on his knees. “No!” Bree hissed even as her body was screaming YES! “Stop arguing with me, darling.

Bree crossed her arms over her protruding belly. “I’m fine. No one has shot at me in the last twenty four hours, and my family is talking to me again. Things are looking up.” He grimaced at the mention of her family. “How fortunate for you.” Bree narrowed her eyes at him, picking up on the derogatory tone. “Well, you should know all about the importance of family. You’d do anything for yours, right? Bernardo says jump, you ask ‘how high?’ “ Alessandro felt a sick twist of guilt in his chest, “Well, congratulations, Brianna. You’ve worked very hard for the title of O’Reiley doormat. I hope it’s all you’ve ever wanted. I hope you’re happy.” “Blissfully,” Bree shot back and turned on her heel, leaving him there filled with anger and regret.

Bree shot to her feet and glared at him. “Look all you want, Brianna. That was the deal, remember? Until Arturo is found, I’m not leaving you alone.” Alessandro stared down at her with immovable stubbornness. “How am I gonna explain you to my grandfather? And what if the rest of my family is there?” “Hello O’Reiley family, you remember Alessandro, the father of my child, the man that I love, the light of my life, ma raison d'être…” “Are you done?” Bree asked cocking an eyebrow. “Depends, are you quite ready to go? Look, you can explain that I’m there for answers too. My father’s involvement in this vendetta directly influences my own future and that of my child.

Bree rubbed her belly. Figured; Alessandro wasn’t one to live in quiet but strained tension. She stared up at the fabric of the canopy and then squeezed her eyes shut. “Alessandro, considering that the outside world has the sterile hospital rooms, not to mention the epidurals, yeah. For goodness sake, Alessandro. You know we can’t stay here forever. I’m entering my eighth month here.” “I must say, I’m surprised you’re so anxious to leave.” “Why?” Bree asked, turning to look at his strong profile. “You know why, Brianna. As soon as we walk out that door, you and I are over.” Bree felt a guilty tightening in her chest. “Perhaps that’s what you want, though.” “That’s not fair,” Bree whispered even as she feared he was right. No. He’s wrong. I love him. She wasn’t going to let anyone shake what she and Alessandro had built here. She’d let her family know that she wanted Alessandro in her life and that she wanted to be a family with him. “Thanks for your confidence in me, though. Really.

Bree stared down at Bernardo’s still form. The monitor was the only sound in the room apart from his deep breathing. Alessandro had gone down to the cafeteria with Will and Gianni to grab something to eat before they left for home. Bree lied and told him that she wanted to check in with Tina and her mother Roxanna for a few minutes before they left. Even unconscious, the son of a bitch was formidable and Bree felt nervous around him. “Why don’t you do everyone a favour and just die already?” Bree said. No response. Bree sneered and shook her head, turning to leave. “You could always smother me with a pillow,” a groggy voice said behind her, making her heart nearly stop. Bree whirled around wide-eyed and met Bernardo’s dark gaze. She forced herself to shrug and crossed her arms. “Do you think Alessandro would forgive you for murdering his father?” Bernardo asked. They both knew the answer to that.

Colin. Just the name made Alessandro’s gut burn. He knew the man wanted his wife, even if Brianna was too blind to see it. The moron had been cuckolded by the paragon of supposed virtue, his wife Carrie and now he had finally opened his eyes and seen what Alessandro had known all along. Brianna put every other woman in New York to shame. No woman could come near her beauty, her passion, her fire. Colin had tossed her aside for the angelic Carrie and now he was changing his mind. Oh no you don’t, you miserable fucker. “Her friend indeed,” Bernardo drawled, his Italian accent thick with unmistakable implication. “Dat’s da truth. He no make her cry all da time.” That was directed at Alessandro, with small dark accusatory eyes. “He nice.” Alessandro couldn’t look at those eyes without feeling a sickening pang of guilt. She’s mine! He wanted to scream. Mine! Mine! Mine! “Oh yes. Very nice. He was very nice when he held her at the cemetery and very nice when he was dancing with her at Adresca.” That made Alessandro’s head lift in surprise. “Oh yes, my boy. She’s been there, cleaning up the rubble and word is that she’s working on re-opening it. Her friend Colin has been quite helpful in that endeavour.” “I don’ like how you say dat,” Will said scowling. “Really young William, I only speak the truth,” Bernardo taunted. Alessandro’s mind was racing. NO! Not Colin. He could not let that imbecile take Brianna away from him. He’d have to be eliminated somehow. Alessandro began to plot all the different ways he could ensure that Colin Neally stayed away from his wife, permanently. They all involved grisly, violent methods. He could not be allowed to win Brianna.

Domenico had that ‘look-at-me I’ve-got-money’ attitude about him. A proper nouveau riche. In combination with his pig-like table manners at home, it was a sight to behold.

Even if it means I’ll never be the man you give yourself to, I’ll always do anything to protect you.