When I got home, I started to look over my collection to make sure if there were any other titles I might want to trade. As with the first time, my eyes went over my copy of Steven Soderbergh's "The Limey". You see, I like the movie well enough, but I don't really sit down and watch it anymore. I still keep it because, every once in a while, I put it in to watch one scene.
The title character played by Terence Stamp is known only as "Wilson". He's just gotten out of prison and flown to Los Angeles in search for answers to the mysterious death of his daughter. While looking into the affairs of a man named Valentine (Peter Fonda) who may be involved in her death, Wilson is confronted by DEA agents that are also investigating Valentine. They bring him in to talk to their boss, played by Bill Duke. The performance of Stamp combined with Soderbergh's perfect editing make this one of the best movie monologues I've ever heard.
Wilson: "How you doin' then? All right, are you? Now look, squire, you're the guv'nor here, I can see that. I'm in your manor now. So there's no need to get your knickers in a twist. Whatever this bollocks is that's going down between you and that slag Valentine, it's got nothing to do with me. I couldn't care less. Alright, mate? Let me explain. When I was in prison - second time - uh, no, telling a lie, third stretch, yeah, third, third - there was this screw what really had it in for me, and that geezer was top of my list. Two years after I got sprung, I sees him in Arnold Park. He's sittin' on a bench feedin' bloody pigeons. There was no-one about, I could've gone up behind him and snapped his f**kin' neck, *wallop!* But I left it. I could've knobbled him, but I didn't. 'Cause what I thought I wanted wasn't what I wanted. What I thought I was thinkin' about was something else. I didn't give a toss. It didn't matter, see? This berk on the bench wasn't worth my time. It meant sod-all in the end, 'cause you gotta make a choice: when to do something, and when to let it go. When it matters, and when it don't. Bide your time. That's what prison teaches you, if nothing else. Bide your time, and everything becomes clear, and you can act accordingly."