Bill the Butcher: You see this knife? I'm gonna teach you to speak English with this fucking knife!

Amsterdam Vallon: Lord, place the steel of the Holy Spirit in my spine and the love of the Virgin Mary in my heart.

Boss Tweed: The appearance of law must be upheld, especially when it's being broken.

Happy Jack: I come for my due and proper.

[Aside, after speaking to a foreigner]
Boss Tweed: They don't speak English in New York anymore?

Bill the Butcher: He was the only man I ever killed worth remembering.

Bill the Butcher: I'm going to paint paradise square with his blood. Two coats.

Bill the Butcher: Each of the five points is a finger. When I close my hand it becomes a fist.

Bill the Butcher: Thank God I died a true American.

Priest Vallon: The blood stays on the blade, son.

Bill the Butcher: Here's the minority vote!

Bill the Butcher: At my challenge, by the ancient laws of combat, we are met at this chosen ground, to settle for good and all who holds sway over the five points: us natives, born rightwise to this fine land, or the foreign hordes defiling it!
Crowd: Yeah!!!
Priest Vallon: By the ancient laws of combat, I accept the challenge of the so called "natives." They plague our people at every turn, but from this day out, they shall plague us no more! For let it be known, that the hand that tries to strike us from this land shall be swiftly cut down!
Crowd: YEAH!!!

Bill the Butcher: Is this it, priest? The Pope's new army? A few crusty bitches and a handful of rag-tags?

Priest Vallon: Now, now Bill. You said that this was a fight for warriors. So warriors is what I brought.

Johnny Sirocco: He's not who he says he is.

Boss Tweed: You killed an elected official!
Bill the Butcher: Elected by who?

McGloin: What's a nigger doing in the church?

Bill the Butcher: Hey, have you met Amsterdam? He almost fish-hooked McGloin.

Boss Tweed: We're burying a lot of votes tonight.

Amsterdam Vallon: It took sand to be a turtledove.

Bill the Butcher: Ears and noses will be the trophies of the day. But no hand shall touch him!

Amsterdam Vallon: When you kill a king, you don't stab him in the dark. You kill him where the entire court can watch him die.

Bill the Butcher: what's your name boy?
Amsterdam Vallon: Amsterdam
Bill the Butcher: Amsterdam? I am New York.

Bill the Butcher: This is a night for Americans!

Bill the Butcher: Anything in your pockets?
Jenny: I ain't started working yet.

Boss Tweed: You know why he wears short sleeves? So they can see he's got nothing stashed. I hope that never becomes the fashion.

Bill the Butcher: Is this the Pope's new army?

Bill the Butcher: Burn him, see if his ashes turn green.

Bill the Butcher: I don't give a tupenny fuck about your moral conundrum, you meat-headed shit-sack!

Bill the Butcher: Everybody owes, and everybody pays.

Amsterdam Vallon: When you get all of the Irish together, you don't have a gang, you have an army.

Monk McGinn: Well that was bloody Shakespearian. Do you know who Shakespeare is? He wrote the King James bible.

Amsterdam Vallon: I give you my word, this all will be finished tomorrow.
Jenny: No, it won't.