Slim PickensQuotes

Frank Stillwell: Anytime you got one of them down-home sheriffs, you always got a town full of vigilantes.

Cowboy: Ya know, if I's you kids what I'd do? I'd quit this runnin around the country. Ya know, git a little bit a money together n, hell, buy a place n settle down n raise a family. I've been married for 35 years, same old gal; man she's a tough ol hide. God dang, everything I am, I owe ta her.

Carter Doc McCoy: Say a, pull over over here would ya?

Cowboy: [Pulls over] Okay, whatever you say. Now what?

Carter Doc McCoy: Let's get out a spell.

Carter Doc McCoy: How much money did you make last year?

Cowboy: Aw, reckon about five thousand.

Carter Doc McCoy: Suppose I give you ten thousand for that truck of yours?

Cowboy: You're serious?

Carter Doc McCoy: I am.

Cowboy: An'a I keep ma mouth shut, an I don't say nothin bout the truck, n I never seen either one a the two of ya.

Carter Doc McCoy: That's what I want.

Cowboy: How bout twenty?

Carol Ainsley McCoy: How bout thirty?

Cowboy: God damn, ma'am, you got a deal!

Carter Doc McCoy: Pay the man, honey.

Cowboy: Thank ya, ma'am.

Carter Doc McCoy: Now you're gonna have to walk on back to the border.

Cowboy: Oh that's alright. Don't worry bout me.

Carter Doc McCoy: Hope you find what you're lookin for.

Cowboy: [Walks away; laughing and walking] Vaya con Dios. You too, maam. Take care, ya hear? God damn!

Carter Doc McCoy: [to Carol; they drive off] Come on.

Col. Akiro Mitamura: Where Hollywood?

Hollis P. Wood: Right here.

Col. Akiro Mitamura: What?

Hollis P. Wood: You're looking at him.

Col. Akiro Mitamura: Who?

Hollis P. Wood: Hollis Wood.

Col. Akiro Mitamura: Where?

Hollis P. Wood: I'm right here! Shoot, can't ya understand plain English?

Col. Akiro Mitamura: Hollywood?

Hollis P. Wood: Huh?

Col. Akiro Mitamura: Where?

Hollis P. Wood: Here!

Col. Akiro Mitamura: Look. Where Hollywood? North? South?

Hollis P. Wood: [suddenly, he realizes] Oh! You want me to tell you where Hollywood is! Well, shoot, that's easy. Hollywood is... Oh, no, you don't. You thought you was gonna get me to show you where Hollywood was, didn't ya? Tried to sneak up on us, like ya did at Pearl Harbor! Bet you're gonna bomb John Wayne's house, ain't ya?

Lyle: [Taunting the mainly-black railworkers] When you was slaves, you sang like birds. Come on! How about a good old nigger work song?

Bart: [Crooning, [[w:Sammy Davis, Jr.|Sammy Davis, Jr.; the bullying supervisors look immensely confused and insulted; [w:cocaine|coca-yeai-yeaiiiinnnneee] ]-style, with fellow railworkers providing backing vocals] I get no kick from champagne... Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all... so why then should it be true?... that I get a belt - outta you... Some get a kick from ]...

Lyle: [singing] Hold it, hold it! What the hell is that shit?! I meant a song! A real song! Something like "Swing low, sweet chariot"...

Lyle: Don't know that one, huh. Well how about "De Camptown Ladies"?

Bart: De Camptown Ladies?

Railworkers: De Camptown Ladies?

Lyle: Oh, you know! "De Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown Race Track five miles long, oh-de-do-da-dahy!

Taggart: [[w:ABC's Wide World of Sports|Wide World of Sports] What in the ] is a-goin on here? I hired you people to get some track laid, not to jump around like a bunch of Kansas City faggots!

Taggart: Well, how do you like that! We take the trouble to slaughter every last Indian in the West,and for what? So we can appoint a sheriff who's Blacker than any Indian! I AM DEPRESSED!!

Taggart: [on testing for quicksand] Horses? We cain't afford t'lose no horses, you dummy! Send over a couple'a niggers.