I’ve always admired the closing dialog of Godard’s film À bout de souffle in which Belmondo plays a young criminal whose beautiful American girlfriend betrays him to the police. After the police shoot him in the street he dies not without sharing his spite:
MICHEL: Makes me want to puke.
PATRICIA: What did he say?
VITAL: He said you make him want to puke.
PATRICIA: What’s that mean, “puke”?