The hell

A: I can run faster than a horse. B: The hell you can!

'You stay here, sir,' O'Bannion instructed. 'The hell I will,' Feeney said.

What the hell was that?

D'Allesandro was particularly adept at that kind of flash-forward-then-backward-all-the-hell-over-the-place kind of narrative and like a tourist following a well-seasoned guide, you never lose track of the line.

“Whoever the hell is running the place now has made a terrible mess of it,” he said... “Not in the sense that it looks different, or that it isn't pretty much permanently full. It's just that the food as gone utterly down the khazi.”

“She said she had a date later!” “The hell!” exclaimed Crane.

The hell is that?

The hell am I supposed to do with half a kid?

Wilson: He's right. They endorse Royce, fine, the hell else they gonna do?

I’ll tell you a story. The hell's his name? Might be Herbert… Hitler came on me full force. And that was explosive.