Slow Horses is available to watch on Apple TV+.
Season 4 Quotes
Emma Flyte: I’m Emma Flyte. Duffy’s replacement.
Jackson Lamb: Well, you’re already an improvement. On account of not being brain-dead and in a coma.
Jackson Lamb: Well, the grapevine says a lot of things, but it’s mostly the wine talking.
Emma Flyte: So, you’re in charge of the rejects.
Jackson Lamb: They don’t like being called that.
Emma Flyte: What do you call them?
Jackson Lamb: The rejects.
Emma Flyte: [referring to River’s supposed death] He was shot twice. Once in the chest, once in the face.
Jackson Lamb: Seems excessive. Though he could be annoying, I’ll give you that.
Emma Flyte: Did he have any identifying marks?
Jackson Lamb: He used to have a face. That any help?
Emma Flyte: Tattoos, scars, piercings?
Jackson Lamb: Now, how the f*** would I know? I make them wear clothes around the office.
Emma Flyte: You are gross and inappropriate.
Jackson Lamb: I’m working through my grief. It comes out in off ways.
Jackson Lamb: I’m going back to bed.
Emma Flyte: Would you also consider a shower?
Jackson Lamb: Yeah, it’s a tempting offer. But I don’t think that’s appropriate right now. I mean, apart from anything else, one of my team just died.
Newsagent: What kind of person blows up a shopping center full of people? Makes you wonder what’s next.
Jackson Lamb: Yes. Jaffa Cakes. That’s what’s next. And some Alka-Seltzer.
Jackson Lamb: [referring to River’s supposed death] Bullet to the chest and a bullet to the face. Literally wiped the annoying look off it.
Jackson Lamb: River shot the guy’s face off so he could play dead and look into whatever’s going on. Arguably a bats**t move.
Catherine Standish: But you don’t blow a joe’s cover.
Shirley Dander: Jesus Christ. You are gambling again.
Marcus Longridge: Once. It’s fine. Look, a relapse is a good thing. It’s a sign of progress.
Diana Taverner: There isn’t a big picture to running an intelligence agency. It’s just putting out fires every bloody day.
Claude Whelan: Seems to me like a case of institutional burnout, more like.
Moira Tregorian: I wouldn’t go so far as to call you reprobates.
Jackson Lamb: Really? Ho, Marcus Longridge, Shirley Dander. To pick three at random.
Moira Tregorian: Actually, maybe reprobates is a bit mild.
Roddy Ho: [to Lamb] S**t rises to the top in this building with the gold at the bottom. Although, you have the top office, so I’ll take that back.
Jackson Lamb: I got a full day of f*** all to get through.
Jackson Lamb: Now, cuffs won’t be necessary. Come on.
Emma Flyte: I’d rather not take any chances with a man who looks like he gropes people on buses.
Jackson Lamb: Going to the Park is like being in IKEA. You can never get out of the f***ing place.
Shirley Dander: Ho wants help. Unless it’s with assisting his suicide, I’m not interested.
Roddy Ho: [to Shirley] My one weakness is beautiful women, which is why you’re no threat to me.
Shirley Dander: Ho remains the d**khead’s d**khead.
Jackson Lamb: [referring to David] Oh, for f***’s sake, Standish. You know, you wouldn’t have lost him if he was a bottle of gin.
Sam Chapman: There’s a reason he’s known as the Old B****rd.
Jackson Lamb: Well, back then it was just the B****rd.
Diana Taverner: [referring to Whelan] Take away the good looks and there’s really nothing there.
Diana Taverner: [to Flyte] The reason your predecessor and I parted ways, apart from his encounter with a concrete block, was lack of communication.
Emma Flyte: What was in France?
River Cartwright: Oh, you know. French people, baguettes.
Frank Harkness: No one will miss you, Molly. That’s why I picked you. You built your own dungeon and you shut everyone out.
Shirley Dander: Boutique arms dealer? Nice. Really classy.
Marcus Longridge: Was all that coke you snorted fair trade?
Shirley Dander: Sorry. Do you pay tax on your gambling winnings?
JK Coe: We can’t help anyone. This is a D-list unit with no unifying sense of purpose. Everyone here has checked out and been written off.
Louisa Guy: Well, speak for yourself.
Claude Whelan: As you know, my brief is to activate accountability and accessibility, that’s the triple-A promise. But now, reviewing the current situation in the round, my position has shifted somewhat to f***-that-completely. F*** it. This whole thing needs to be locked in a concrete box and dropped in the middle of the ocean.
River Cartwright: Look, maybe my actions have been hard to understand.
Emma Flyte: Faking your own death. Hiding your grandfather. Shooting the face off a corpse.
River Cartwright: Okay. Yeah. If you’re going to do the list thing, then that’s going to make it sound worse.
Marcus Longridge: He’s a f***ing Terminator.
Roddy Ho: What? He’s a shape-shifter made of liquid metal?
Marcus Longridge: That’s the T-1000. I’m saying he’s more like T-800.
Shirley Dander: F***ing hell, Longridge. I can’t even look at you right now.
Louisa Guy: Yeah, I can’t be in this room.
Marcus Longridge: I’m not ashamed. It’s a great franchise.
Emma Flyte: You’re not bad for a Slow Horse.
River Cartwright: Right. So I’m the middle rank of the s**ttiest group. That’s nice.
Frank Harkness: I want to see if you’re happy with the way your life is going.
River Cartwright: My life? The one that you tried to end in France?
Frank Harkness: Oh, come on. Don’t take it personally. I was scorching the earth. You interrupted me.
Frank Harkness: When you’re the target, attack. When you’re being pursued, stand still. If someone offers you their hand, you show them your fist.
River Cartwright: I feel like I’m at a TED talk.
Louisa Guy: Why do you always run off by yourself, trying to be a hero?
River Cartwright: It’s more complicated than that.
Shirley Dander: [to JK] Not the time to make tea, you f***ing weirdo!
Jackson Lamb: I’d invite you up to the office, but there were two dead bodies hanging about until about an hour ago.
Diana Taverner: Who’s going to get your salary when you keel over on the job?
Jackson Lamb: Are you suggesting a marriage of convenience? So, if one of us cops it, the other one cashes in?
Diana Taverner: I would rather die.