Michael RookerQuotes

Anderson: Nice to be back in a dry county. When I was Sheriff, about half my take-home pay was from collectin taxes on illegal juice like this, probably works the same here. I think you'd haul in a tidy penny here, winkin at the bootleggers.

Deputy Sheriff Clinton Pell: I don't know nothin bout that.

Anderson: [takes a drink; holds up the beer] Yeah. Tidy penny. You got anything stronger than this, Deputy?

Deputy Sheriff Pell: No. No, we ain't.

Anderson: No? You know in Thornton, Mississippi there's a joint-juice still in every yard. Well, all you need is some corn and sugar, and a pot to boil it in. I tried takin the prints on this old boy one time, and he'd had his hand in the mash barrel, all his life. Well, there's no skin at all on there, there's no prints.

Deputy Sheriff Clinton Pell: We ain't too interested in your good ol Mississippi boy stories, Anderson; you ain't from here no more. Why'd you leave, anyway?

Anderson: Just wanted a change of scenery. The grits started leavin a bad taste in my mouth.

Frank Bailey: Well, if that's how you feel about it, Mr. FBI Man, why don't you drink up that beer and get the hell on outta here, get back to your nigger-commie-lovin bosses up North?

Anderson: You must not know my boss. Mr. Hoover? He's not too fond of commies. He'd be on your side there.

Frank Bailey: I don't give two shits whose side your Mr. Hoover's on, boy. All I know is we got 5,000 niggers in this county and we ain't registered a vote yet. So you can tell your stiff-suits up there in DC that they ain't gonna change us one bit. Less it's over my dead body. Or a lot of dead niggers.

Anderson: You'd kill, Frank? Is that what you're sayin'?

Frank Bailey: I wouldn't give it no more thought than wringin a cat's neck. And there ain't a court in Mississippi that'd convict me for it.

Anderson: How bout you, Deputy? How're you with wringin necks, huh?

Deputy Sheriff Pell: Just keep pushin me, Hoover boy.

Frank Bailey: Now you listen here, you cornholin fucker. You tell your queer-loving nigger bosses that they ain't never gonna find those civil rightsers! So you might as well pack up your bags and get your ass on back up North where you belong, boy-

Anderson: [while grabbing Bailey by the crotch; after opening his coat and exposing his gun he turns to Deputy Pell; Releases his grip on Bailey, who collapses to the floor, then takes a swig of beer] Now you listen here, shitkicker! Don't you go confusin me with some whole other body. You got your brains in your dick if you think we're just gonna fade away- we're gonna be here til this thing is finished. How bout you, Deputy? That gun of yours just for show, or do you get to shoot people once in a while? Thanks for the beer.

Henry: What're you doing?

Otis: I wanna see it again!

Becky: Did you really kill your mama?

Henry: Huh?

Becky: Did you really kill your mama?

Henry: I guess I did.

Becky: How'd it happen?

Henry: I stabbed her.

Becky: Otis said you hit her with a baseball bat.

Henry: Otis said that?

Becky: Yeah.

Henry: Well, he's mistaken.

Becky: Well don't tell him I told you. He made me promise...she must have treated you real bad.

Henry: She was a whore. My mama was a whore. But I don't fault her for that. It ain't what she done, but how she done it. Long as I can remember, she'd bring men up to the house. My daddy was there too, but it didn't matter none to her. She'd make me watch.

Becky: That's creepy.

Henry: She'd beat me too. A lot. She'd beat me when I wouldn't watch it. And sometimes she'd beat me, and make me wear a dress, and watch her doin it. Then they'd laugh at me.

Becky: She made you wear a dress?

Henry: You think I'm lyin?

Becky: I feel like I know you, like I've known you for a long time. I feel like I've known you forever and ever.

Henry: Yeah. I killed my mama. One night. It was my 14th birthday. She was drunk, and we had an argument. She hit me with a whiskey bottle. I shot her. I shot her dead.

Becky: I thought you said you stabbed her.

Henry: Oh yeah, that's right, I stabbed her.

Otis: Where you going?

Henry: Nowhere - you wanna come?

Henry: If you shoot someone in the head with a .45 every time you kill somebody, it becomes like your fingerprint, see? But if you strangle one, stab another, and one you cut up, and one you don't, then the police don't know what to do. They think you're four different people. What they really want, what makes their job so much easier, is pattern. What they call a modus operandi. That's Latin. Bet you didn't know any Latin, did you kid?

Otis: Big fucking deal.

Henry: What?

Otis: Nothing.

Henry: It's like a trail of shit, Otis. It's like the blood droppings from a deer you shot, and all they've got to do is follow those droppings, and pretty soon, they're going to find their deer.

Otis: So why did we use a gun?

Henry: You can use a gun. I'm not saying you can't use a gun. Just don't use the same gun twice.

Otis: That little fucking bastard. I oughta kill him. I oughta cut his fucking head off.

Henry: That'd be a mistake.

Otis: Look who's talking.

Henry: (forcefully) Watch your mouth, Otis.

Otis: I'm sorry, Henry.

Henry: You kill that high school boy, they're gonna slap your ass right back in jail, Otis. That's a promise. I mean, people have seen you together.

Otis: I'd still like to kill him, though

Henry: I bet you would.

Otis: I'd like to kill somebody.

Henry: Say that again.

Otis: I'd like to kill somebody.

Henry: Let's me and you go for a ride, Otis.

Becky: I love you, Henry.

Henry: I guess I love you too.

Henry: You tellin me you never killed anybody before?

Otis: I didn't say that! There've been times when I've had to. But that was different from tonight. Tonight just seemed...wrong.

Henry: Open your eyes, Otis! Look at the world! It's either you...or them...you know what I mean.

Store clerk: How about those Bears?

Henry: Fuck the Bears.

Henry: Guns are easy to get...I can make a phone call and get a gun. Anybody can get a gun, Otis. My dog can get a gun!

Henry: It's always the same and it's always different.

Henry: Otis, plug it in.

Henry: Don't do that Otis, she's your sister!

Brenda Gutierezz: I thought maybe you was dead after the other night.

Grant Grant: I am dead. Don't I look it?

Grant Grant: I've been around a billion years. You think you can fuck with me?

Grant Grant: It's all over, Starla. And I'll keep growing till I'm everywhere. Till I'm all that is! Then you'll know what it feels like to be betrayed. Won't you, sugarplum?

Grant Grant: Open this door, you little whore! Don't mess with me, you little slut.

Grant Grant: Hey there, killer!

Grant Grant: You ain't gonna shoot me, Starla! I told you: You always needed me to protect you! You for damn sure ain't got the balls to--

Grant Grant: I'm sorry for trying to strangle you and all. I lost my head. I didn't mean to do none of them things I done. Not kill them pets. Not make Brenda a womb. But it's my nature, ain't it? How can you blame someone for acting according to his own nature? I wanted to tell you what was going on, but I was afraid you wouldn't love me no more. I never knew love, Starla...

Grant Grant: Come on, baby, don't... Don't look at me like that.

The Big T: The mainstream media as usual tries to sell you all a load of BULLSHIT!

The Big T: Just like that half-man/half-sea creature capsizing fishing vessels in the South China Sea. Like what we were just talking about last week. Some kind of witch-woman who chokes people out with ropes and corks. They are all out there, they are all waiting, and they're all GONNA EAT A FUCKING BREAKFAST UNLESS WE GET OUR SHIT TOGETHER AND DO SOMETHING!

Rowdy Burns: The boy don't have the balls to pass me on the outside.

Rowdy Burns: I'm gonna take this rookie, once and for all.

Rowdy Burns: Ok, I'm going to pull this rookie's chain.

Hal Tucker: Delmar, from me to you, you're an asshole.

Delmar: Yeah? And you're a loud-mouth punk slag, who's about to die.

Hal Tucker: Maybe. But in a minute I'll be dead, and you, will always be an asshole.

Bill Broussard: [after hearing the FBI/Oswald story] I don't buy it, Chief. Why would the FBI cover it up? A telex that disappears from every single FBI office in this country?

Jim Garrison: There's a word, Bill. Orders.

Susie Cox: Or a cover up. Jesus, Bill. Don't you have enough proof of the FBI's complicity yet?

Bill Broussard: I respect this country's institutions, like you do, Susie! How the hell can you keep a conspiracy going between the mob, the CIA, the FBI, the Army Intelligence, and who the hell knows what else when you can't keep a secret in this room between 12 people? I mean, we got leaks everywhere. We are going to trial, y'all! What the hell do we really got? Oswald, Ruby, Bannister and Ferrie are dead. Shaw? Maybe he's an agent, I don't know. But, as a covert operator in my book, he is wide open for blackmail because of his homosexuality.

Jim Garrison: Shaw's our toehold, Bill. I don't know exactly what he is or where he fits, and I don't really care. But I do know he's lying through his teeth and I'm not gonna let go of him.

Bill Broussard: And that's why, for those reasons, you're going to trial against Clay Shaw, chief? Well, you're gonna lose! Let's investigate our Mafia leads here in New Orleans. Now, I can buy that a hell of a lot easier than I can the government. Ruby's all mob, knows Oswald, sets him up. Hoffa, Trafficante, Marcello, they hire some guns and they do Kennedy. And, uh, the government doesn't want to open up a whole can of worms because it used the mob to try to get to Castro. Castro assassinated by the mob, by us, sounds pretty wild to John Q. Citizen. So they close the book on JFK. Makes perfect sense to me.

Jim Garrison: I don't doubt their involvement, Bill, but at a low level. Could the mob change the parade route? Or eliminate the protection for the President? Could the mob send Oswald to Russia and get him back? Could the mob get the FBI, the CIA, and the Dallas Police to make a mess of the investigation? I mean, could the mob get the Warren Commission appointed to cover it up? Could the mob wreck the autopsy? Could the mob influence the national media to go to sleep? And since when has the mob used anything but .38s for hits up close? The mob wouldn't have the guts or the power for something of this magnitude. Assassins need payrolls, schedules, times, orders. This was a military style ambush from star to finish. A coup d'etat with Lyndon Johnson waiting in the wings.

Bill Broussard: [[Lyndon Johnson] OK. So now you're saying ] was involved? The President of the United States?

Jim Garrison: [[w:KBR (company)|Brown and Root; [w:Cam Ranh Bay|Cam Ranh Bay] I know this, Bill. Lyndon Johnson got $1 billion dollars for his Texas friends, ], to dredge ] for the military in Vietnam.

Bill Broussard: Boss...

Jim Garrison: That's just for openers...

Bill Broussard: [yelling] Boss, are you calling the President a murderer?!?

Jim Garrison: If I'm so far from the truth, why is the FBI bugging our offices? Huh? Why are our witnesses being bought off and murdered? And why are the federal agencies blocking our extraditions and subpoenas like we were never before?

Bill Broussard: I don't know. I don't know. Maybe there's some rogue element in the government or something, but you're not...

Jim Garrison: With a full-blown conspiracy to cover it up? You ever read Shakespeare, Bill?

Bill Broussard: Yeah, I do.

Jim Garrison: Julius Caesar? "Brutus and Cassius, they, too, are honorable men." Who killed Caesar? Ten or twelve senators. All it takes is one Judas, Bill. A few people on the inside. Pentagon, CIA, you name it.

Bill Broussard: This is Louisiana, chief. How the hell do you know who your daddy is? Cause your mama told ya so. You are taking a crap in the wind, boss. And I, for one, am not going along on this one.

Lou Ivon: Boss, I've had my doubts all along about Bill. He's been fighting us all along.

Jim Garrison: Well, we need him back.

Al Oser: [[w:Hunt Oil Company|Hunt Oil] Boss, Broussard wasted a whole damn month trying to prove that mob boys like Jack Ruby and Brady are kind of hooked up with ].

Lou Ivon: I don't trust this guy.

Jim Garrison: I will not hear this, gentlemen. Now, I value Bill as much as any person here. It's time we all made room for someone else's ideas, including me. Maybe Oswald is what everybody says he is and I'm just plain dumb about it.

Al Oser: [trying to discuss this situation] I've seen him copying files, leaving here late at night.

Lou Ivon: I just don't trust him.

Jim Garrison: Didn't you two hear what I said?! I said I will not tolerate infighting among the staff!

Lou Ivon: Then I'm afraid I cannot work with Bill Broussard anymore.

Jim Garrison: Is this an ultimatum you're giving me, Lou?

Lou Ivon: What?!

Jim Garrison: Are you giving me an ultimatum?

Lou Ivon: [sighs] Well, if that's what you want to call it. I never thought it would come to this. I guess I am.

Jim Garrison: Well, then I won't have any more ultimatums put to me, Lou. I'll accept your resignation.

Lou Ivon: Well, you sure got it. You are one stubborn son of a bitch. And you... are making a very big mistake.

Susie Cox: Boss, aren't you being a little hard?

Jim Garrison: No, I don't think I am, Susie. Anyone else?

FBI Agent Frank: [intercepting Bill] Hey, Bill.

Bill Broussard: [trying to walk away and ignore him] Hey, where you at, Frank? You're wasting your time here. Big Jim gave strict orders. No FBI allowed.

FBI Agent Frank: It's you I want to, Bill.

Bill Broussard: [walking to his parked car and putting some stuff away] No, no. Boss would fry me in hog fat if he knew I talked to you.

FBI Agent Frank: Your boss just got a serious problem, Bill. Real serious. We know what's going on over at your office.

Bill Broussard: Yeah, I guess you do.

FBI Agent Frank: You got nothing, Bill. I'm talking to you as a friend now. You're riding on the Titanic. Time to jump off before you get destroyed, too, along with Garrison.

Bill Broussard: [trying to get to his apartment] Frank, I don't want to hear this.

FBI Agent Frank: [cornering Bill] We're talking about your career, Bill. Your life. You're a young guy. We know you're working on that Castro thing.

Bill Broussard: [shaking his head] No, I'm not. No.

FBI Agent Frank: [Slapping Bill, who's trying to escape] Yes, you are. Look, we know Oswald didn't pull that trigger. Castro did. But if that comes out, there will be a war. Millions of people will die. And, that's a hell of a lot more important than Jim Garrison. Goddammit, look at me when I talk you! You're too goddamn selfish!

Bill Broussard: [yelling] I can't!

FBI Agent Frank: SHUT UP! Shut up! If you got a brain in that thick skull of yours, listen to me. You listen real hard. Now, get in the car.

Bill Broussard: None of their testimony is gonna hold up in court, Chief. Hell, all three of them have reputations as low as crocodile piss.

Jim Garrison: That bother you, Bill? I always wonder why it is in court if a woman's a prostitute, she has to have bad eyesight.

Lefty Williams: I thought you were supposed to be in charge of this thing. What happened to Sullivan?

Chick Gandil: He switched hotels, we can't track him down.

Lefty Williams: And what happened to Attell?

Chick Gandil: Shot his wad in the third game when Kerr won; said he's busted.

Happy Felsch: Well, to hell with them, then.

Chick Gandil: You two made an agreement!

Happy Felsch: Hey, we lose one more and it's over. I've dumped four games; I've only been paid for one.

Chick Gandil: [Williams and Felsch grin and walk off; throws his glove to the ground] Hey, you don't know what these guys are like. Once you're in, you're in! You can't welch on these guys! Your funeral! Assholes...

Swede Riesberg: [Comes walking up] Problems?

Chick Gandil: [Puts on a brave smile] Nah. We still got Eddie.

Sport Sullivan: Look at those hands, ladies. You should have been a pug, Chickie.

Chick Gandil: I did some scrapping. Once, I'm standing there in the ring. My eyes are swollen so bad, I can hardly see. All of a sudden, I bust the guy with an uppercut, he goes down. Somebody stuffs fifty bucks in my hand. Fifty bucks. Now, I'm stepping on something, and it's the other guy's teeth. "What does he get?" I ask. The referee bends over and looks, and says, "From the look of this jaw, he gets the liquid diet for six weeks." Now, what we should've done was waltz around for a few rounds, one of us falls, and we split the fifty dollars even and nobody gets hurt.

Chick Gandil: You go back to Boston and turn seventy grand at the drop of a hat? I find that hard to believe.

Sport Sullivan: You say you can find seven men on the best club that ever took the field willin to throw the World Series? I find that hard to believe.

Chick Gandil: You never played for Charlie Comiskey.

Abe Attell: It's all out on bets.

Chick Gandil: [Shoves Attell] That's not good enough!

Abe Attell: Hey! Don't worry, you'll get your money soon enough.

Chick Gandil: When?

Swede Riesberg: And how much?

Abe Attell: A hundred grand, like I said. Twenty after each game.

Happy Felsch: Wait a minute, that's five games. I thought we were just dumping a few.

Abe Attell: No, you lose the first three.

Eddie Cicotte: Kerr's pitching the third. He's not with us.

Swede Riesberg: So, what? We don't hit for him, he'll fold. He's a busher!

Abe Attell: After that, we gotta play it by ear. We gotta make this look good, fellas....

Eddie Cicotte: [quietly to Gandil] Chick, where's the money I asked for?

Chick Gandil: Look under your pillow.

Eddie Cicotte: What?

Chick Gandil: Compliments of Sport Sullivan.

Yondu: He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy. I'm sorry I didn't do none of it right. I'm damn lucky you were my boy.

Yondu: WHAT THE HELL YOU DOING, BOY?!

Rocket: I could tell by how you talked about him this Ego's bad news! We’re here to save Quill!

Yondu: For what? Huh?! For honor? For love?

Rocket: No! I don’t care about those things! I wanna save Quill so I can prove I'm better than him! I can lord this over him forever!

Rocket: What are you laughing at me for?

Yondu: You can fool yourself and everyone else, but you can't fool me. I know who you are.

Rocket: You don't know anything about me, loser!

Yondu: I know everything about you. I know you play like you're the meanest and the hardest, but actually, you're the most scared of all.

Rocket: Shut up!

Yondu: I know you steal batteries you don't need, and you push away anyone who's willing to put up with you, cause just a little bit of love reminds you of how big and empty that hole inside you actually is.

Rocket: I said shut up!

Yondu: I know them scientists what made you, never gave a rat's ass about you!

Rocket: I'm serious, dude!

Yondu: Just like my own damn parents, who sold me, their own little baby, into slavery! I know who you are, boy! Because you're me.

Rocket: ...What kind of a pair are we?

Yondu: The kind that's about to go fight a planet, I reckon.

Rocket: All right, okay! Good, that's-- Wait. Fight a what?

Yondu: Stakar. It's been some time.

Stakar Ogord: [''Disdainfully''; ''He and his crew start to leave''] It seems like this establishment is the wrong kind of disreputable.

Innkeeper's Wife: Sir!

Yondu: Stakar!

Stakar Ogord: There’s a hundred Ravager factions. You lost the business of 99 of them by serving one.

Innkeeper's Wife: Please, sir. Please!

Stakar Ogord: [''Pushing her away''] Get away from me.

Yondu: [''Shouting after him''] YOU CAN GO TO HELL, THEN! I don't give a damn what you think of me!

Stakar Ogord: So what are you following us for?!

Yondu: Because you're gonna listen to what I gotta say!

Stakar Ogord: I don't gotta listen to nothing! You betrayed the code! Ravagers don't deal in kids!

Yondu: I told you before! I didn't know what was going on!

Stakar Ogord: You didn't know cause you didn't want to know, cause it made you rich!

Yondu: [''Desperately''] I demand a seat at the table! I wear these flames, same as you!

Stakar Ogord: [''In a quieter, more sad tone''] You may dress like us, but you'll never hear the hordes of freedom when you die, Yondu, and the colours of Ogord will never flash over your grave. If you think I take pleasure in exiling you, you're wrong. You broke all our hearts.