Robert De Niro Monologues

Taxi Driver (Travis Bickle)

You talkin to me? You talkin’ to me You talkin’ to me? Well then who the hell else are you talkin’ to? You talkin’ to me? Well I’m the only one here. Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to? Oh yea? Huh? Okay. Huh?

Taxi Driver (Travis Bickle)

April 10, 1972. Thank God for the rain which has helped wash the garbage and trash off the sidewalks. I’m working a single now, which means stretch-shifts, six to six, sometimes six to eight in the a.m., six days a week. It’s a hustle, but it keeps me busy. I can take in three to three-fifty a week, more with skims. I work the whole city, up, down, don’t make no difference to me – does to some. Some won’t take spooks – Hell, don’t make no difference to me. They’re all animals anyway. All the animals come out at night: Whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.

Heat (Neil McCauley)

A guy told me one time, “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.” Now, if you’re on me and you gotta move when I move, how do you expect to keep a… a marriage? … There’s a flip side to that coin. What if you do got me boxed in and I got to put you down? ‘Cause no matter what you will not get in my way. We’ve been face to face yea, but I will not hesitate, not for a second. … Well, maybe we’ll never see each other again.

Cape Fear (Max Cady)

I ain’t no white trash piece of shit. I’m better than you all! I can out-learn you. I can out-read you. I can out-think you. And I can out-philosophize you. And I’m gonna outlast you. You think a couple whacks to my good ol boys guts is gonna get me down? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than that, Counselor, to prove you’re better than me!

Casino (Sam “Ace” Rothstein)

The town will never be the same. After the Tangiers, the big corporations took it all over. Today it looks like Disneyland. And while the kids play cardboard pirates, Mommy and Daddy drop the house payments and Junior’s college money on the poker slots. In the old days, dealers knew your name, what you drank, what you played. Today, it’s like checkin’ into an airport. And if you order room service, you’re lucky if you get it by Thursday. Today, it’s all gone. You get a whale show up with four million in a suitcase, and some twenty-five-year-old hotel school kid is gonna want his Social Security Number. After the Teamsters got knocked out of the box, the corporations tore down practically every one of the old casinos. And where did the money come from to rebuild the pyramids? Junk bonds. But in the end, I wound up right back where I started. I could still pick winners, and I could still make money for all kinds of people back home. And why mess up a good thing? And that’s that.