Billy Bob ThorntonQuotes

Leticia Musgrove: ...What?

Hank Grotowski: Oh, nothing, I-I just uhm... I'm gonna go out and buy some ice cream.

Leticia Musgrove: [laughs] ... Now?

Hank Grotowski: Yeah... It just feels right.

Leticia Musgrove: Okay.

Hank Grotowski: Well...

Leticia Musgrove: Can you buy me some?

Hank Grotowski: Yea. What kind you want?

Leticia Musgrove: Chocolate.

Hank Grotowski: I'm not sure what exactly you want.

Leticia Musgrove: You know what I want... I want you to make me feel good. Can you make me feel good, can you make me feel good? I wanna feel good... I wanna feel...

Hank Grotowski: I wanna take care of you.

Leticia Musgrove: Good. Cuz I need to be taken care of.

Hank Grotowski: Let's get this over quick.

Minister: is there a passage you'd like me to read?

Hank Grotowski: No, all I wanna hear is dirt hit that box.

Ms. Guillermo: You must love him very much.

Hank Grotowski: No, I don't. But he's my father. So, there it is.

Sonny Grotowski: You hate me. You hate me, don't you? Answer me! You hate me, don't you?

Hank Grotowski: Yeah, I hate you. I always did.

Sonny Grotowski: Well, I've always loved you.

Hank Grotowski: [to Sonny about Lawrence Musgrove] You fucked him up! You fucked up that man's last walk!

Hank Grotowski: I went by our station on the way home... I like that sign. I think we're gonna be alright.

Susan Stanton: What's the crisis?

Richard Jemmons: Say you're out in the woods takin a shit, and a wild boar comes charging at you. Do you pull your britches up and run? Or do you pull your britches up and grab the doves you just shot and then try to run all at the same time? Or do you forget about the fuckin doves and run because you ain't got time to grab the doves and button your fly? And if you miss, well... you don't wanna die with your dick hanging out, you see what I'm sayin'?

Susan Stanton: I think I speak for everyone in the room when I say "no".

Richard Jemmons: I got a python in here...

Jennifer Rogers: Wow. I've never seen one that... old... before.

Richard Jemmons: That's what these guys do. They love you and then stop lovin you.

Richard Jemmons: You just called me a redneck, which I'm proud to say I am, and you, Hodgkiss, are a honky! You just look black, and it's the best part of ya! Lets you intimidate the palefaces, especially lib-labs, and lets ya work that voodoo sexual shit on white girls. Well, I'm probably blacker than you are. I got some slave in me. I can feel it.

Richard Jemmons: The media giveth, and go fuck yourself

Doyle Hargraves: What the hell you doing with that lawn mower blade?

Karl Childers: I aim to kill you with it.

Karl Childers: Everything's gonna be all right, boy. I kind of want to put my arm around you for a minute. Then I'm gonna get up and leave out of here.

Frank Wheatley: Okay.

Karl: I love you, boy!

Frank Childers: I told you I ain't got no boy. Now why don't you go on out of here and let me be? You ain't no kin to me.

Karl Childers: [after a pause] I learned to read some. I read the Bible quite a bit. I can't understand all of it, but I reckon I understand a good deal of it. Them stories you and Mama told me, they ain't in there. You ought not done that to your boy. I've studied on killing you. I studied about it quite a bit. But I don't reckon there ain't no need for it if all you're gonna do is sit there in that chair. You'll be dead soon enough and the world'll be shot of ya. You ought not killed my little brother. He ought to had a chance to growed up. He woulda had fun some time.

Frank Wheatley: Ever think of killing yourself on purpose like my daddy done?

Karl Childers: I studied about it. The Bible says you ought not to. It says if you do that, you go off to Hades. Some folks call it Hell, I call it Hades.

Frank Wheatley: You ever have any brothers or sisters growing up?

Karl Childers: I had one there for a little while. But, uh, it didn't get old enough for me to play with it.

Frank: Why not? It die?

Karl: Yes, Sir.

Frank: Why?

Karl: It got born too early. My mother and father made it come out too early some how or other.

Frank: So it died when it came out?

Karl: My daddy came out to the shed and got me. He said, "Here, take this and throw it away", and he handed me a towel with something or another in it. Well I started for that barrel and I opened up the towel cause there was a noise. Something a-moving around in there. The towel was all bloody-like all around it there. It was a lil ol baby not no bigger than a squirrel.

Frank: A girl or a boy?

Karl: It was a little ol boy.

Frank: You threw it in the trash barrel?

Karl: Well that didn't seem right to me, so I went in the shed and got me a shoe box and emptied out all the washers and nuts and screws and whatnot that were in it and I takened the little fellar and put him inside the box and buried him right there in a corner of the yard. That seemed more proper to me, I reckon.

Frank: Was it still alive when you buried it?

Karl: I heared it a-cryin through that box.

Frank: That don't seem right. Seems like you would have kept him and taken care of him if he was your brother.

Karl: I wasn't but 6 or 8. I don't reckon I knew what to do. I didn't know how to care for no baby. My mother and father didn't want him and they learned me to do what they told me. These days I reckon it's better to give him back to the Good Lord anyhow.

Vaughan Cunningham: You seem like a thinker, you know. You seem to always be deep in thought. Okay, tell me something. What are you thinking right now?

Karl Childers: I was thinking um, I'm gonna take some of these potaters home with me.

Vaughan: Oh. How about before that?

Karl: Let me think, mmm. Before that I was thinking I could use me another six or eight cans of that potted meat if you got any extra, mmm.

Frosty Cream Boy: Can I help you, sir? Can I help you, sir?

Karl Childers: I was kinda wantin somethin nother to eat, mmm-hmm.

Frosty Cream Boy: Well, uh, what would you like?

Karl: You got any biscuits for sale in there?

Frosty Cream Boy: Well no. This here is a Frosty Cream. We don't serve biscuits. We got a lot of other stuff, though.

Karl: What you got in there that's good to eat?

Frosty Cream Boy: Well, we got Big Chief burgers, Bongo burgers, foot longs, corny dogs, Frosty shakes, creamy bars. Uh, did you want me to go through the whole list?

Karl: Reckon what you like to eat in there?

Frosty Cream Boy: Well, the french fries are pretty good.

Karl: French fried potaters?

Frosty Cream Boy: Yup, the french fries.

Karl: How much you want for em?

Frosty Cream Boy: Well, they're 60 for the medium and 75 for large.

Karl: I reckon I'll have me some of the big uns.

Frosty Cream Boy: Alright then, one large french fries?

Doyle Hargraves: Was you in the nut house for hackin somebody up with a hatchet?

Karl Childers: I never used no hatchet that I remember. Mmm hmm.

Doyle: So you're just crazy in a retard kind of way, huh? Wouldn't matter to me if you did do violence on someone. I ain't scared of shit. You're just a humped-over retard, seems to me. I'm just kiddin'. Welcome to our humble home, Buddy.

Marsha Dwiggins: Will you ever kill anyone again, Karl?

Karl Childers: I don't reckon I got no reason to kill nobody. Mmm.

Karl Childers: [to Charles Bushman, final words of the film] Don't you say another word to me. I ain't listenin to you no more.

Karl Childers: [on the phone] Yes, ma'am. I I need the police over at the Wheatley house, mmm. I've killed Doyle Hargraves with a lawnmower blade. Yes, ma'am, I'm right sure of it. I hit him two good whacks in the head with it. That second one just plum near cut his head in two... It's a lil ol white house on the corner of Vine Street and some other street. There's a pick-up truck out front that says "Doyle Hargraves Construction" on it. Doyle said besides sending the police, you might wanna send an ambulance or a "hearst". I'll be sitting here, waiting on ye.

Karl Childers: I don't think anything bad ought to happen to children. I think the bad stuff should be saved up for the people who's grown up. That's the way I see it.

Karl Childers: There were these two fellars standin on a bridge, a-goin to the bathroom. One fellar said, "The water's cold" and the other fellar said, "The water's deep". I believe one fella come from Arkansas. Get it?

Karl Childers: I like them French fried potaters.

Karl Childers: [to Vaughn] I don't reckon you have to go with women to be a good daddy to a boy. You been real square-dealin with me. The Bible says two men ought not lay together. But I don't reckon the Good Lord would send anybody like you to Hades. That Frank, he lives inside of his own heart. That's an awful big place to live in. You take good care of that boy.

Karl Childers: I guess I am going to have to get used to lookin at perty people, and perty people going to have to get used to lookin at me.

Karl Childers: Some folks call it a sling blade, I call it a kaiser blade. It's kindly a long wood handle, kinda like an axe handle, with a long blade on it shaped kindly like a bananer. Mmm hmm. Sharp on one edge, and dull on the other un. Mmm hmm. It's what the highway boys use to cut down weeds and what not, y'know.

Willie: You know, I think I've turned a corner.

Marcus: Yeah? You fucking petites now?

Willie: No, I'm not talking about that. I beat the shit out of some kids today. But it was for a purpose. It made me feel good about myself. It was like I did something constructive with my life or something, I dunno. Like I accomplished something.

Marcus: You need many years of therapy. Many, many, many fuckin years of therapy.

Willie: [upon seeing the safe] Oh shit.

Marcus: What? What?

Willie: It's a Kintnerboy Redoubt.

Marcus: So?

Willie: Remember Andy Pitz?

Marcus: Andy Pitzerelli, yeah.

Willie: No, Andy Repitski. Andy Pitzerelli was Andy Blue Balls.

Marcus: Since he got married they called him Andy Pitzerelli. What's your fucking point?

Willie: [[Margaret Thatcher] Well they say he can get into anything. Anything. They say he's been in ]'s pussy.

Marcus: And that's a good thing? So what the fuck are you getting at?

Willie: When I was in the joint with him, he told me the Kintnerboy Redoubt can't be cracked.

Marcus: Are you shitting me? Are you telling me that after I propped you up, held you together, smiled for all those kids, danced for all those fuckin housewives in a fucking lime green fucking velvet elf costume, that you cannot crack this fucking safe? Is that what you telling me?

Willie: No, I'm just saying it's gonna take a minute.

Woman in Food Court: Look who's here, Jimmy! It's Santa!

Willie: [mutters to himself] Great. Fucking great.

Woman in Food Court: Let's tell him what you want for Christmas.

Willie: [turns to the woman and son] I'M ON MY FUCKING LUNCH BREAK, OKAY?!

Woman in Food Court: [offended] Are you insane? Management's gonna hear about this.

Willie: Think that's a threat? You really think you can make my fucking life any worse, you go right ahead. Be my fucking guest. Take a shot.

Marcus: You fuck her?

Willie: Jesus Christ! Is everything fucking sex with you?

Marcus: With me? I fuck one person. I ain't out there serially fornicatin', trying to float my liver drinkin myself silly cause I can't stand what a piece of shit I am.

Willie: What are you? Sigmund "Sawed Off" fuckin Freud?

Marcus: Yeah, that's right, shit for brains. Go ahead, talk about my height. Make it about something safe cause you're an emotional fuckin cripple. Your soul is dogshit. Every single fuckin thing about you is ugly.

Marcus: That's just the kinda shit that's gonna get us pinched.

Willie: She said she was 18.

Marcus: But you promised no arcades! You said you'd only hustle Big and Tall.

Willie: [unlocks the stolen BMW] What, you shat me outta your womb? You're my fucking mom now? I don't need any goddamn lectures outta you. I know how to keep a low profile, thank you.

Marcus: [referring to the car] What the fuck is this, Mr. Low Profile?!

Willie: [opens the driver's side door, and several empty beer bottles and cans spill out onto the ground. Willie gets in, starts the car and drives off] Mind your own goddamn business.

Marcus: [shouting after Willie] Ever hear of the open-bottle law?!

Sue: I've always had a thing for Santa Claus. In case you didn't notice. It's like some deep-seeded childhood thing.

Willie: So is my thing for tits.

Sue: You're pretty regular for a Santa.

Willie: It's not that much of a big fucking deal. It's just a job, you know what I mean? I'm just an eating, drinking, shitting, fucking Santy Claus.

Sue: Prove it.

Sue: Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa. Fuck me, Santa!

Willie: Can't I at least take this hat off?

Sue: NO! I love the hat.

Willie: Okay.

Gin: We split the dough right down the middle. Any merchendise you take, I get to look at and cherry pick.

Marcus: No. Money is one thing but you ain't getting the sh...

Gin: [[w:prix fixe|pricks fix] This ain't no Chinese menu, jagoff! I tell YOU how it's gonna be. This is ]!

Willie: Pricks fix?

Marcus: Ah, he's a fucking moron.

Willie: Oh really? Is that how you got the upper hand?

Marcus: Fuck you.

Willie: Negotiating?

Marcus: You don't like it? Next year, fuck off. I can always get another box jockey.

Willie: Yeah and I can get another midget too.

Marcus: Yeah? Where? You see us hanging off of fucking trees like fucking crab apples?

Marcus: Willie, this has been a long time coming. Every year, you're worse. Every year, you're less reliable. More booze, more bullshit, more butt-fucking.

Willie: Sure, the three B's.

Marcus: It won't happen again. I can promise you that. Willie here has low blood sugar. That's all.

Willie: That's right. I forgot to take my pill.

Bob Chipeska: It's not just the swearing. Forgive me for prying, but did one of you, um, fornicate...

Willie: Fornicate?

Bob Chipeska: Yes, with a heavy-set woman in the big-and-tall dressing room?

Willie: Look, I've boned a lot of fat chicks in my time, sure. But as far back as I can remember, I've never fornicated anybody.

Bob Chipeska: Yes... Well, even still, I think it's best for all parties considered if we...

Marcus: If we what?

Bob Chipeska: Well, I have somebody else interested in the position.

Willie: Before you do something stupid, you might want to think about this shit.

Bob Chipeska: What are you talking about?

Willie: I'm talking about firing a little black midget. A small, colored, African-American small person. That's what I'm talking about. I'm talking about your face all over goddamn USA Today, that's what I'm talking about. I'm talking about 150 of these little motherfuckers all over the sidewalk out there. Holding picket signs and using bullhorns and shit like that. Screaming and hollering your name out. Unfair practices, get me?

Bob Chipeska: Oh no, this is not a handicapped thing. I have nothing against you people.

Willie: You people? Did you hear that Marcus? He said "you people".

Marcus: Who the hell is "us people"?

Bob Chipeska: No...he said...I...you don't under-- what? No, no. Um, I think it's best if we just forget we had this conversation.

Willie: Good thinking. And don't worry about us. We'll be fine. Let's get the hell out of here, Marcus.

Willie: You're pathetic.

Bob Chipeska: Harrison, will you let me explain, please? Financially--

Fired Santa: Well, you get what you paid for, Chipeska. Five Christmases I've been here, and no what. Now you flip me for some stranger who'll do it for peanuts and happens to work with a real midget. Well, let me tell you something, though: nobody cares! Nobody comes for the elf. Santa's main attraction. I do Burl Ives songs. Does this schmoe even play guitar?

Bob Chipeska: Look, Harrison, it's not about the money or the midget. Believe me, if it was-- I don't think they like midget. I think you're supposed to call them--

Fired Santa: [Walks away as Willie and Marcus enters the store, then yells to them] Oh, just forget it! Hacks!

Bob Chipeska: [to Marcus and Willie] Hi. Bob Chipeska. Welcome. Great photo and resumè, by the way.

Marcus: Thanks. You know, we've been at this for a long time and all, so we like to think we do a good job.

Bob Chipeska: I'm so glad you two can come at such a short notice. You two are perfect for this job, truly.

Bob Chipeska: So, I don't want his unpleasantness affect your performance in any way.

Marcus: Oh, no, we--

Willie: Performance?

Bob Chipeska: Yes. Your performance. You know, the...

Willie: Performance, like, sexual?

Bob Chipeska: Excuse me?

Marcus: Willie.

Willie: Are you saying there's something wrong with my gear? Is that what you're saying to me?

Bob Chipeska: I'm sorry, your gear?

Marcus: Willie...

Willie: My fuck stick!

Marcus: Willie, take a seat. You know how your blood sugar is.

Bob Chipeska: He's not going to say "fuck stick" in front of the children, is he?

Marcus: No! It was just a joke. An adult joke for us adults. It's a joke. Just a joke.

Willie: [in a letter to Thurman] Dear Kid, I hope that you got my present and that there wasn't too much blood on it, although there was blood on the presents you gave me, which didn't keep me from enjoying it, so maybe the blood doesn't matter so much, I guess. Just in case they took it as evidence, I'm also sending you a T-shirt. I hope it's the right size. I'm healing up good and they tell me that I will soon be 100%, even with eight bullets dug out of me cause they didn't hit any vital organs, just my liver, which is fucked anyway. Hahaha. Anyways, I told the cops you had no one to take the fuck care of you so they set it up with Ms. Santa's Sister to watch you til your dad gets back in one year and three months. They made her a guardian pro tem, or some such shit. Anyway, she makes better money than bartending and seems to like you, your house, and Jacuzzi. As for my little helper, I'm sorry to tell you that him and his prune-faced, mail-order wife are gonna be exploring mountains with your dad. I hope your dad doesn't go sucking shit for them like I did. Thank you for giving that letter to the cops, I forgot to ask you to do it, but it's a good thing you did or Santa's little helper would've plugged his ass, and now the cops know I wrote it, which is gonna keep my ass outta jail. That plus everyone agreeing that to Phoenix police department shooting an unarmed Santa was even more fucked up than Rodney King. Cops are treating me like fucking royalty now, which is new in my experience. They're gonna make me the sensitivity counselor, so that tragedies like this will never again embarrass the whole fucking department. Whatever. So I'll be staying in Phoenix now, telling the police how screwed up they are, which is not a bad job as jobs go. They're supposed to let me out of this hospital room soon, so I'll see you when I come over and fuck Ms. Santa's Sister in the jacuzzi. Until then, don't take no shit from nobody, least of all, yourself. Anyway, see you soon. Santa.

Willie: [to Thurman; [w:Rodney King|Rodney King] Thank you for giving that letter to the cops. I forgot I asked you to do it, but it's a good thing you did, or Santa's Little Helper would have plugged his ass. And now the cops know I wrote it, which is gonna keep my ass out of jail. That, plus everyone agreeing that the Phoenix police department shooting an unarmed Santa was even more fucked up than ]. Cops are treating me like fucking royalty, which is new in my experience. They're making me a sensitivity counselor so that tragedies like this would never again embarrass the department. Meanwhile, I told the cops that you had no one to take the fuck care of you. So they set it up with Mrs. Santa's sister until your dad gets out in one year and three months. They made her a guardian pro-temp. As for my little helper, I'm sorry to tell you that he and his prune faced, mail order wife are going to be exploring mountains with your dad. I just hope your dad doesn't go sucking shit from them like I did.

Willie: Wish in one hand, shit in the other and see which one fills up first.

Willie: [to Thurman] Jesus, kid. When I was your age, I didn't need no fucking gorilla. And I wasn't as big as one of your legs. Four kids beat me up one time and I went crying home to my daddy. You know what he did? He kicked my ass. You know why? It's because he was a mean, drunk son of a bitch. And when he wasn't busy busting my ass, he was putting cigarettes out on my neck. The world ain't fair. You've gotta take what you need when you can get it. You've gotta learn to stand up for yourself. You gonna have to quit being a pussy and kick these kids in the balls or something...or don't. Shit. I don't care. Just leave me the hell out of it.

Willie: [while having sex] Yeah, baby! Yeah, baby! You ain't gonna shit right for a WEEK!

Willie: I said "next," goddamn it! This is not the DMV, all right? Move it along.

Willie: [narrating; [Lyndon Johnson] I've been to prison once. I've been married twice. I was once drafted by ] and had to live in shit-ass Mexico for two and a half years for no reason. I've had my eye socket punched in, a kidney taken out, and I got a bone-chip in my ankle that's never gonna heal. I've seen some pretty shitty situations in my life, but nothing has ever sucked more ass than this. If I'd known I was gonna have to put up with screaming brats pissing on my lap for days out of the year, I would have killed myself a long time ago. Come to think of it, I still might.

Lou Chambers: What you gonna buy, Jakey boy?

Jacob Mitchell: I'm gonna buy me a truck.

Lou Chambers: No, fuck that. Get something classy – Trans-Am!

Jacob Mitchell: Yeah, in my wildest fuckin dreams, a Trans-Am!

Jacob Mitchell: I mean, hell, Hank, I've never even kissed a girl. You know, if me becoming rich is gonna change all that, you know I'm all for it.

Jacob Mitchell: We don't have anything in common, me and him, except maybe our last name.

Jacob Mitchell: I wish somebody else had found that money.

Jacob Mitchell: Hank, do you ever feel evil?

Jacob Mitchell: [commenting on crows] Those things are always waiting for something to die so they can eat it. What a weird job.

Ed Crane: I don't know where I'm being taken. I don't know what waits for me beyond the earth and sky. Maybe the things I don't understand will be clearer there, like when a fog blows away. Maybe Doris will be there, and maybe there I can tell her all those things they don't have words for here.

Ed Crane: Yeah, I guess I'm sorry about the pain I caused other people, but I don't regret anything. I used to. I used to regret being the barber.

Ed Crane: [about his lawyer's courtroom speech] And then it was Riedenschneider's turn. I gotta hand it to him, he tossed a lot of sand in their eyes. He talked about how I'd lost my place in the universe; how I was too ordinary to be the criminal mastermind the D.A. made me out to be; how there was some greater scheme at work that the state had yet to unravel. And he threw in some of the old "truth" stuff he hadn't had a chance to trot out for Doris. He told them to look at me, look at me close. That the closer they looked, the less sense it would all make; that I wasn't the kind of guy to kill a guy; that I was The Barber, for Christsake. I was just like them - an ordinary man. Guilty of living in a world that had no place for me, yeah. Guilty of wanting to be a dry cleaner, sure. But not a murderer. He said I was modern man, and if they voted to convict me, well, they'd be practically cinching the noose around their own necks. He told them to look, not at the facts, but at the meaning of the facts. Then he said the facts had no meaning. It was a pretty good speech. It even had me going until Frankie interrupted it.

Ed Crane: Time slows down right before an accident, and I had time to think about things. I thought about what an undertaker had told me once - that your hair keeps growing, for a while anyway, after you die, and then it stops. I thought, "What keeps it growing? Is it like a plant in soil? What goes out of the soil? The soul? And when does the hair realize that it's gone?

Ed Crane: I sat in the house, but there was nobody there. I was a ghost; I didn't see anyone. No one saw me. I was the barber.

Ed Crane: Sooner or later everyone needs a haircut.

Ed Crane: I lived in a little bungalow on Napa Street. The place was OK, I guess. It had an electric ice box, gas hearth, and a garbage grinder built into the sink. You might say I had it made.

Ed Crane: Me, I don't talk much. I just cut the hair.

Dan Truman: [briefing Harry and Grace Stamper on the situation; [comet; [w:Asteroid_belt|asteroid belt; [water; [land; [Oceans|ocean; [Pacific Ocean; [California; [Denver; [Japan; [Australia; [Earth; [w:Nuclear_winter|nuclear winter] When the rogue ] went through the ], it sent shrapnel right for us. For the next 11 days, the Earth's in a shooting gallery. Even if the asteroid itself hits the ], it's still hitting ], it'll flashboil millions of gallons of seawater and slam into the ] bedrock. Now if it's a ] impact, which we think it will be, it will create a tidal wave about three miles high, travelling a thousand miles an hour, covering ] and washing up in ]. ] is gone, ] is wiped out. Half of the ]'s population will be incinerated by the heat blast, the rest will freeze to death in a ].

Dan Truman: [addressing staff on the [[NASA; [w:50th_Space_Wing#50th_Tactical_Fighter_Wing|50th Tactical] ] flight center network after the space shuttle Atlantis is destroyed] Okay, I want three groups. One: internal malfunction; get the log tape and start working back; maybe it's a glitch. Two: I want NORAD, Space Command and the ] comparing all the space junk you tracked in every orbit. I want you to check, re-check and then do it all over again. Number three: wild cards, anything and everything alright? Now, Big Russ, I want you to get on the phone and wake up 11,000 people. Walt, get em going.

Mike Winchell: You ever feel cursed, Coach? Like, no matter what, inside your heart you feel that you're gonna lose. Like something's hanging over you, following you like a witch or a demon that just... I feel like that all the time. Even when things are going good. When we're winnin', it's there. And when we're losin', it's there.

Coach Gary Gaines: It took me a long time to realize that, uh, there ain't much difference between winnin and losin', except for how the outside world treats you. But inside you, it's about all the same. It really is. Fact of the matter is, I believe that, uh, our only curses are the ones that are self-imposed. You know what I'm sayin'? We, all of us, dig our own holes.

Coach Gary Gaines: So how is it out there?

Ivory Christian: They're fast, they're big, they're dirty... plus they're fast.

Coach Gary Gaines: You said that already.

Coach Gary Gaines: Being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you and your relationship with yourself, your family and your friends. Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didn't let them down because you told them the truth. And that truth is you did everything you could. There wasn't one more thing you could've done. Can you live in that moment as best you can, with clear eyes, and love in your heart, with joy in your heart? If you can do that gentleman - you're perfect!

Coach Gary Gaines: I want you to take a moment, and I want you to look each other in the eyes. I want you to put each other in your hearts forever because forever is about to happen here in just a few minutes. I want you to close your eyes, and I want you to think about Boobie Miles, who is your brother. And he would die to be out there in that field with you tonight. And I want you to put that in your hearts. Boys my heart is full. My heart is full.

Coach Gary Gaines: Gentlemen, the hopes and dreams of an entire town are riding on your shoulders. You may never matter again in your life as much as you do right now.

Coach Gary Gaines: I've seen you fight. I've seen you not quit. Can you give me a great effort and just a little bit more. Can you be perfect?

Coach Gary Gaines: Stop reading the news clippings. You're small and you're going to be smaller every week. There ain't going to be no growth spurt between now and the first game. You're going to use your minds! You're going to play with your heart! And that is what you're going to use to win the State Championship.

Ron Hewitt: Hey Russell, we hear this story, they say you stood on a runway in New Mexico and let a 747 part your hair with wake turbulence. That happen?

Russell Bell: No.

Ron Hewitt: That's what we thought.

Russell Bell: [[w:Arizona|Arizona] No, that was in ].

Barry Plotkin: You really did that?

Russell Bell: Yeah!

Barry Plotkin: Why?

Russell Bell: Well, I guess my life was a little short on excitement. Of course, all that's changed tonight.

Russell Bell: Thought is the enemy.

Nick Falzone: I know. I've been thinking too much. I had that thought actually.

Russell Bell: Human beings can tolerate a lot of pain, you never know until it happens.

Russell Bell: I used to bowl, when I was an alcoholic.

Russell Bell: If you ever want to sleep at night, don't marry a beautiful girl.

Doc Holliday: Why, Johnny Tyler! You madcap.

Johnny Tyler: [Freezes] ...Doc?

Doc Holliday: Where do you think you're going with that shotgun?

Johnny Tyler: ...I-I didn't know you was back in town!