From Hell
From Hell

Sir William Gull: One day men will look back and say that I gave birth to the twentieth century.
Abberline: You're not going to see the twentieth century.

From Hell
From Hell

[after trying to kiss Abberline and he refuses]
Mary Kelly: What? You think I was paying you back? I didn't mean it as business. I'm still a woman, they haven't taken that away from me, not yet anyways!
[Abberline proceeds to shove her against the wall and kiss her passionately]

From Hell
From Hell

Sir William Gull: Below the skin of history are London's veins. These symbols, the mitre, the pentacle star, even someone as ignorant and degenerate as you can sense that they course with energy and meaning. I am that meaning. I am that energy.

From Hell
From Hell

Mary Kelly: What's wrong? You think I was born a whore? Oh that's right, England doesn't have whores, just a great mass of very unlucky women.

From Hell
From Hell

Jack the Ripper: Why have you called me here, Netley.
Netley, the Coachman: It's just... you say only three more have to be killed. I don't know if I can do it anymore. It's in all the papers. I'm just a simple chap, sir. I'm not a great man like you. I just don't know where I am anymore.
Jack the Ripper: There, there Netley. I shall

tell you where we are. We're in the darkest region of the human brain, a radiant abyss where men go to find themselves.
Netley, the Coachman: I don't understand, sir.
Jack the Ripper: Hell, Netley. We are in hell.

From Hell
From Hell

[reading the return address on the package sent by Jack the Ripper]
Peter Godley: "From Hell". Well at least they got the address right.

From Hell
From Hell

Sir William Gull: Laudanum is a derivative of opium. Apart from doctors and addicts, not many would be able to detect it. How long have you been chasing the dragon, Inspector?

From Hell
From Hell

Sir Charles Warren: It's over with, It's done. You have my word.
Abberline: Fuck your word! I will bring down every one of you fucking cunts!

From Hell
From Hell

Abberline: [about Polly's murder] I'm waiting for the police surgeon's report for more details.
Sir Charles Warren: [sits at his desk while smoking a cigarette] I see. Well, one thing's for certain; an Englishman didn't do it.
[Warren pulls up a newspaper clipping of American Natives]
Sir Charles Warren: Maybe one of these Red

Indians wandered into Whitechapel and indulged his natural inclinations.
[Abberline looks doubtfully at the drawing]
Abberline: With all due respect, sir, I believe this was done by someone with at least a working knowledge of dissection. An educated man, such as a doctor...
Sir Charles Warren: [quickly interjects] An educated man? That's

preposterous! No well-bred man would do this!
[pause]
Sir Charles Warren: Probably a tradesman or a butcher...
Abberline: [nods] A tradesman is a possibility, sir, yes...
[pause]
Abberline: But there's a strong indication against it. There was a sprig of grapes under her body.
Sir Charles

Warren: What are you driving at?
Abberline: No one in Whitechapel, no matter what their trade, could afford grapes. Obviously, they were given to her by the killer. It follows that he must be someone with money.

From Hell
From Hell

Peter Godley: You do not fuck with the special branch, the special branch fucks with you.

From Hell
From Hell

[last lines]
Peter Godley: Goodnight, sweet prince.

From Hell
From Hell

Masonic Governor: You stand before your peers, masons and doctors both.
Sir William Gull: I have no peers present here.
Masonic Governor: What?
Sir William Gull: No man amongst you is fit to judge... the mighty art that I have wrought. Your rituals are empty oaths you neither understand nor live by. The Great

Architect speaks to me. He is the balance where my deeds are weighed and judged... not you.

From Hell
From Hell

Abberline: This ain't killin' for profit. This is ritual.

From Hell
From Hell

[Johnny Depp's first lines]
[Sergeant Godley slaps Abberline to wake him up]
Abberline: Hello, darling.

From Hell
From Hell

Liz Stride: [Arrives in pub with Ada] Ah 'ere you are, 'ello girls.
Mary Kelly: I told you to wait for me.
Liz Stride: I can't stay in a pub and not 'ave a drink: that's cruel.

From Hell
From Hell

Abberline: Why?
Sir Charles Warren: Are you questioning my decision?
Abberline: No, sir, I just simply want to know why.

From Hell
From Hell

Abberline: I want every veterinarian, butcher, furrier in the district interviewed.
Constable Withers: Furrier? What he do, sir? Skin her?
Abberline: He disemboweled her. Removed her stomach, intestines...

From Hell
From Hell

Polly Nichols: [to her John] All right. We can do it here, but hurry up.
[they start to undress]
Polly Nichols: The bobbies are trackin' us!
Polly's John: Right.
[he pulls down his pants]
Polly's John: Gotta get the old man hard first.
Polly Nichols: Give it here. I'll put it in meself!
[she grabs

his genitals]
Polly's John: Is that in?
Polly Nichols: Of course it is. Come on!
Polly's John: No, it's not. Ya got it stuck between yer bleedin' legs!
Polly Nichols: [frustratingly] No, I haven't! Come on!
Polly's John: I knows it when I feels it!
[they start copulating against the wooden fence]

From Hell
From Hell

Sgt. Peter Godley: Right, once more into the breach, gentlemen!
[the police constables remain where they are, confused]
Sgt. Peter Godley: Dismissed.

From Hell
From Hell

Peter Godley: They used to burn men like you, alive.