Full Metal Jacket (1987) - Quotes

Taglines: Vietnam can kill me, but it can't make me care.

Taglines: In Vietnam, the wind doesn't blow. It sucks.

T.H.E. Rock: You're going home now.

Crazy Earl: Semper Fi.

Donlon: We're mean Marines, sir.

Eightball: Go easy, bros.

Animal Mother: Better you than me.

Rafterman: Well, at least they died for a good cause.

Animal Mother: What cause was that?

Rafterman: Freedom.

Animal Mother: Flush out your headgear, New Guy. You think we waste gooks for freedom? This is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, then my word is "poontang.

Da Nang Hooker: Hey, baby. You got girlfriend Vietnam?

Joker: Not just this minute.

Joker: Yeah, we might party. How much?

Da Nang Hooker: $15.

Joker: $15 for both of us?

Da Nang Hooker: No. Each you $15. Me love you long time. Me so horny.

Joker: $15 too beaucoup. $5 each.

Da Nang Hooker: Me sucky-sucky. Me love you too much.

Joker: $5 is all my mom allows me to spend.

Da Nang Hooker: Okay. $10 each.

Joker: What do we get for $10?

Da Nang Hooker: Every t'ing you want.

Joker: Everything?

Da Nang Hooker: Every t'ing.

Joker: [to Rafterman] Well, old buddy, feel like spending some of your hard-earned money?

Hartman: [to recruits] Get back in your bunks!

Hartman: [storms into the head] What is this Mickey Mouse shit?!

Hartman: [to Joker] What in the name of Jesus H. Christ are you animals doing in my head?! Why is Private Pyle out of his bunk after lights-out?! Why is Private Pyle holding that weapon?! Why aren't you stomping Private Pyle's guts out?!

Joker: Sir, it is the private's duty to inform the senior drill instructor that Private Pyle has a full magazine and has locked and loaded, sir!

Hartman: [calmly and sternly, to Lawrence; Lawrence insanely and eerily smiles and aims at Hartman's chest. Hartman realises what Lawrence is doing; angrily bellowing; Lawrence shoots and kills him, then swings the barrel slowly up toward Joker] Now, you listen to me, Private Pyle, and you listen good. I want that weapon, and I want it now. You will place that rifle on the deck at your feet and step back away from it. WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION, NUMBNUTS?! DIDN'T MOMMY AND DADDY SHOW YOU ENOUGH ATTENTION WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD?!

Joker: [Lawrence lowers it, sits on a latrine, and puts the muzzle in his mouth; alarmed; Lawrence pulls the trigger, killing himself and splattering his brains across the wall, leaving Joker horrified at the sight] Easy, Leonard. Go easy, man. NO!!

Hartman: [[w:Charles Whitman|Charles Whitman; Cowboy raises his hand] Do any of you people know who ] was? None of you dumbasses knows? Private Cowboy?

Cowboy: [stands up; [w:University of Texas tower shooting|shot all those people; [w:Main Building (University of Texas at Austin)|that tower in Austin] Sir, he was that guy who ] from ], Texas, sir!

Hartman: [[w:Lee Harvey Oswald|Lee Harvey Oswald; all recruits raise their hands] That's affirmative. Charles Whitman killed 12 people from a 28-story observation tower at the University of Texas, from distances of up to 400 yards. Anybody know who ] was? Private Snowball?

Snowball: [stands up; [w:Assassination of John F. Kennedy|he shot; [John F. Kennedy|Kennedy] Sir, ] ], sir!

Hartman: That's right. And do you know how far away he was?

Snowball: [[w:Texas School Book Depository|that book suppository building; the recruits laugh] Sir, it was pretty far, from ], sir!

Hartman: [Snowball sits down; Joker raises his hand] All right, knock it off. 250 feet. He was 250 feet away and shooting at a moving target. Oswald got off three rounds with an old Italian bolt-action rifle in only six seconds and scored two hits, including a headshot. Do any of you people know where these individuals learned how to shoot? Private Joker?

Joker: [stands up] Sir, in the Marines, sir!

Hartman: In the Marines! Outstanding! Those individuals showed what one motivated Marine and his rifle can do! And before you ladies leave my island, you will all be able to do the same thing!

Hartman: [To Privates Joker and Cowboy] As soon as you finish your bunks, I want you two turds to clean the head.

Joker & Cowboy: Sir, aye-aye, sir!

Hartman: I want that head so sanitary and squared away that the Virgin Mary herself would be proud to go in there and take a dump.

Joker & Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Private Joker, do you believe in the Virgin Mary?

Joker: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: [Throws the trash can aside in anger] Well, Private Joker, I DON'T BELIEVE I heard you correctly.

Joker: Sir, the private said "No, sir", sir!

Hartman: [Slaps Joker across the face] Why, you little maggot! You make me wanna vomit! You goddamn communist heathen! You had best sound off that you love the Virgin Mary, or I'm gonna stomp your guts out! Now, you do love the Virgin Mary, don't you?

Joker: Sir, negative, sir!

Hartman: Private Joker, are you trying to offend me?

Joker: Sir, negative, sir! Sir, the private believes that any answer he gives will be wrong, and the Senior Drill Instructor will beat him harder if he reverses himself, sir!

Hartman: Who's your squad leader, scumbag?

Joker: Sir, the private's squad leader is Private Snowball, sir!

Hartman: Private Snowball!

Snowball: Sir, Private Snowball reporting as ordered, sir!

Hartman: Private Snowball, you're fired. Private Joker is promoted to squad leader.

Snowball: Sir, aye-aye, sir!

Hartman: Disappear, scumbag!

Snowball: Sir, aye-aye, sir!

Hartman: Private Pyle!

Pyle: Sir, Private Pyle reporting as ordered, sir!

Hartman: Private Pyle, Private Joker is your new squad leader, and you will bunk with him! He'll teach you everything, he'll teach you how to pee!

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Private Joker is silly and he's ignorant, but he's got guts, and guts is enough. Now, you ladies carry on.

Cowboy, Joker & Pyle: [together] Sir, aye-aye, sir!

Hartman: [To Lawrence as he struggles on an obstacle course] Next two privates, go! Quickly! Get your fat ass over there, Private Pyle. Oh, that's right, Private Pyle. Don't make any fucking effort to get up to the top of the fucking obstacle! If God wanted you up there, He would've miracled your ass up there by now, wouldn't he?

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Get your fat ass up there, Pyle!

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: What the hell is the matter with you anyway? I'll bet you if there was some pussy up there on top of that obstacle...

Pyle: [falling off again] Shit!

Hartman: ...you could get up there, couldn't you?

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Your ass looks like about a hundred and fifty pounds of chewed bubble gum, Pyle! You know that?

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: [to Night Watchman] Hit it, sweetheart.

Night Watchman: Sir, aye-aye, sir!

Hartman: [Lawrence briefly hikes his rifle to his right shoulder and corrects himself, but Hartman notices the error and angrily marches to him] Left shoulder! Hut! Private Pyle, what are you trying to do to my beloved Corps?!

Pyle: Sir, I don't know, sir!

Hartman: You are dumb, Private Pyle, but do you expect me to believe that you don't know left from right?!

Pyle: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: Then you did that on purpose! You wanna be different!

Pyle: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: [slaps Private Lawrence's left cheek] What side was that, Private Pyle?

Pyle: Sir, left side, sir!

Hartman: Are you sure, Private Pyle?!

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: [slaps Private Lawrence's right cheek; knocking his cover off] What side was that, Private Pyle?!

Pyle: [barely holding it together] Sir, right side, sir!

Hartman: Don't fuck with me again, Pyle! Pick up your fuckin cover!

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Did your parents have any children that lived?

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: I bet they regret that. You're so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece! What's your name, fat body?

Pyle: Sir, Leonard Lawrence, sir!

Hartman: [[Lawrence of Arabia (film)|of Arabia] Lawrence? Lawrence what... ]?

Pyle: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty?

Pyle: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: Do you suck dicks?

Pyle: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: Bullshit. I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose.

Pyle: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: I don't like the name Lawrence. Only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you're Gomer Pyle.

Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: What's your excuse?

Cowboy: Sir, excuse for what, sir?

Hartman: I'm asking the fuckin questions here, Private! Do you understand?

Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Well, thank you very much! Can I be in charge for a while?

Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Are you shook up? Are you nervous?

Cowboy: Sir, I am, sir!

Hartman: Do I make you nervous?

Cowboy: Sir!

Hartman: Sir", what? Were you about to call me an asshole?

Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: How tall are you, Private?

Cowboy: Sir, 5'9", sir!

Hartman: 5'9"? I didn’t know they stacked shit that high! You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh?!

Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: Bullshit! It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress! I think you've been cheated! Where in the hell are you from anyway, Private?

Cowboy: Sir, Texas, sir!

Hartman: Holy dogshit! Texas? Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy, and you don't much look like a steer to me, so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks?

Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: Are you a peter-puffer?!

Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: I'll bet you're the kinda guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give him a reacharound! I'll be watching you.

Joker: [under his breath, imitating [[John Wayne] Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?

Hartman: [hearing him; crossing toward Joker's end of the barracks; grabs Cowboy by the front of his shirt] Who said that? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?! Who's the slimy little Communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant?! Nobody, huh? The fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will PT you all until you fucking DIE! I'll PT you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk! Was it you, you scroungy little fuck?! Huh?!

Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!

Hartman: You little piece of shit! You look like a fucking worm! I'll bet it was you!

Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!

Joker: Sir, I said it, sir!

Hartman: [releases Cowboy and moves over to Joker; punches Joker in the gut; he falls to his knees; Joker does so] Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian. Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag! I've got your name! I've got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers! I will teach you! Now get up! Get on your feet! You had best un-fuck yourself, or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!

Joker: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps?

Joker: Sir, to kill, sir!

Hartman: So you're a killer.

Joker: Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: Let me see your war face.

Joker: Sir?

Hartman: [Joker gives one with a not-so-convincingly-fierce yell; Joker gives a louder, more convincing fierce yell, but Hartman is not impressed] You got a war face? AHHH!! THAT'S a war face! Now let me see your war face! Bullshit! You didn't convince me! Let me see your REAL war face! You don't scare me. Work on it.

Joker: [angrily] Sir, yes, sir!

Hartman: I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "sir". Do you maggots understand that?

Hartman: Bullshit! I can't hear you! Sound off like you got a pair!

Recruits: SIR, YES, SIR!

Hartman: [[Black people|niggers; [Jew|kikes; [Italians|wops; [W:greaser (derogatory)|greasers] If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day, you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized, grab-asstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on ], ], ], or ]. Here you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps! Do you maggots understand that?

Hartman: Bullshit! I can't hear you!

Recruits: SIR, YES, SIR!

Hartman: What's your name, scumbag?

Snowball: SIR, PRIVATE BROWN, SIR!

Hartman: Bullshit! From now on you're Private Snowball. Do you like that name?

Snowball: SIR, YES, SIR!

Hartman: Well there's one thing that you won't like, Private Snowball: they don't serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall.

Snowball: SIR, YES, SIR!

Private/Sergeant "Cowboy" Evans: [after he and the other recruits have hazed Pyle by restraining and beating him] Remember, it's just a bad dream, fat boy!

Sergeant "Crazy" Earl: These are great days we're living, bros. We are jolly green giants, walking the Earth with guns. These people we wasted here today are the finest human beings we will ever know. After we rotate back to the world, we're gonna miss not having anyone around that's worth shooting.

Gunnery Sgt. Hartman: Drop your cocks and grab your socks!

Gunnery Sgt. Hartman: [Speech to the platoon on Christmas Day] Today is Christmas. There will be a magic show at 0930. Chaplain Charlie will tell you about how the free world will conquer Communism with the aid of God and a few Marines. God has a hard-on for Marines because we kill everything we see. He plays His games, we play ours. To show our appreciation for so much power, we keep Heaven packed with fresh souls. God was here before the Marine Corps. So you can give your heart to Jesus, but your ass belongs to the Corps!

Gunnery Sgt. Hartman: The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle. It is your killer instinct which must be harnessed if you expect to survive in combat. Your rifle is only a tool. It is a hard heart that kills. If your killer instincts are not clean and strong, you will hesitate at the moment of truth. You will not kill. You will become dead Marines. And then you will be in a world of shit. Because Marines are not allowed to die without permission! Do you maggots understand?

Gunnery Sgt. Hartman: [Graduation speech to the platoon] Today, you people are no longer maggots. Today, you are Marines. You're part of a brotherhood. From now on, until the day you die, wherever you are, every Marine is your brother. Most of you will go to Vietnam. Some of you will not come back. But always remember this: Marines die. That's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever and that means you live forever.

Gunnery Sgt. Hartman: [To Private Pyle when he is unable to climb over an obstacle on a course] Are you quitting on me? Well, are you? Then quit, you slimy fucking walrus-looking piece of shit! Get the fuck off of my obstacle! Get the fuck down off of my obstacle! NOW! MOVE IT! Or I'm going to rip your balls off, so you cannot contaminate the rest of the world! I will motivate you, Private Pyle, IF IT SHORT-DICKS EVERY CANNIBAL ON THE CONGO!

Private/Sergeant James T. "Joker" Davis: [narrating; last lines] We have nailed our names in the pages of history enough for today. We hump down to the Perfume River to set in for the night. My thoughts drift back to erect-nipple wet dreams about Mary Jane Rottencrotch and the Great Homecoming Fuck Fantasy. I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece, and short. I'm in a world of shit, yes, but I am alive. And I am not afraid.

Private/Sergeant James T. "Joker" Davis: [narrating] Graduation is only a few days away, and the recruits of Platoon 3092 are salty. They are ready to eat their own guts and ask for seconds. The drill instructors are proud to see that we are growing beyond their control. The Marine Corps does not want robots. The Marine Corps wants killers. The Marine Corps wants to build indestructible men, men without fear.

Private/Sergeant James T. "Joker" Davis: [[Vietnam; [W:Southeast Asia|Southeast Asia] I wanted to see exotic ]... the crown jewel of ]. I wanted to meet interesting and stimulating people of an ancient culture... and kill them. I wanted to be the first kid on my block to get a confirmed kill.

Private/Sergeant James T. "Joker" Davis: [narrating] The dead know only one thing: it is better to be alive.

Private/Sergeant James T. "Joker" Davis: [narrating; [W:Parris Island|Parris Island; [South Carolina] ], ]—the United States Marine Corps Recruit Depot, an eight-week college for the phony tough and the crazy brave.