Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Today... is Christmas! There will be a magic show at zero-nine-thirty! 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! Do you ladies understand?

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: How tall are you, private?
Private Cowboy: Sir, five-foot-nine, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Five-foot-nine, I didn't know they stacked shit that high.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I'm Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor, from now on you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and the last word out of your filthy sewers will be "Sir". Do you maggots understand that?
[recruits answers: Sir. Yes Sir!]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair!
[recruits repeats with a louder tone]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 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 grabastic 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 niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. 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?

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 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 Joker: The dead know only one thing: it is better to be alive.

---

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.

---

Private Joker: Are those... live rounds?
Private Gomer Pyle: Seven-six-two millimeter. Full. Metal. Jacket.

---

Private Joker: 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 Cowboy: Don't shit me, man!
Private Joker: I wouldn't shit you. You're my favorite turd!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [Hartman gives a speech to the graduating recruits] 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 Corp lives forever. And that means YOU live forever.

---

Private Joker: Leonard, if Hartman finds us here, we'll be in a world of shit.
Private Gomer Pyle: I *am*... in a world... of shit.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Were you born a fat, slimy, scumbag puke piece o' shit, Private Pyle, or did you have to work on it?

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Oh that's right, Private Pyle, don't make any fucking effort to get to the top of the fucking obstacle. If God would have wanted you up there he would have miracled your ass up there by now, wouldn't he?

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I bet you're the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I'll be watching you.

---

Gunnery Sergeant 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 Sergeant Hartman: Do you think I'm cute, Private Pyle? Do you think I'm funny?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, no, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face.
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir.
[tries to stop smiling]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, I'm trying, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Pyle I'm gonna give you three seconds; exactly three-fucking-seconds to wipe that stupid looking grin off your face or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you! ONE! TWO! THREE!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, I can't help it, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit! Get on your knees scumbag!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [Pyle drops down to his knees]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Now choke yourself.
Private Gomer Pyle: [Pyle wraps his own hands around his throat]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Goddamn it, with MY hand, numb-nuts!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [Pyle reaches for Hartman's hand]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Don't pull my fucking hand over there! I said choke yourself; now lean forward and choke yourself!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [choking Pyle] Are you through grinning?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit, I can't hear you!
Private Gomer Pyle: [louder] Sir, yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit, I STILL can't hear you! Sound off like you've got a pair!
Private Gomer Pyle: SIR, YES, SIR!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: That's enough; get on your feet. Private Pyle you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cufflinks or I will definitely fuck you up!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir.

---

Gunnery Sergeant 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.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What is your major malfunction, numbnuts? Didn't Mommy and Daddy show you enough attention when you were a child?

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Tonight, you pukes will sleep with your rifles. You will give your rifle a girl's name because this is the only pussy you people are going to get. Your days of finger-banging ol' Mary J. Rottencrotch through her pertty pink panties are over! You're married to this piece. This weapon of iron and wood. And you will be faithful. Port, hut!
[Recruits grabs their rifles]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Prepare to mount!
[Recruits step back towards their bunks]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Mount!
[Recruits quickly hop onto their bunks]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Port, hut!
[Recruits grabs their rifles and holds them up]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Pray!
Recruits: [chanting] This is my rifle. There are many like it but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my rifle is useless. Without my rifle I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. Before God I swear this creed: my rifle and myself are defenders of my country, we are the masters of our enemy, we are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace. Amen.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Order, hut!
[Recruits puts the guns at their sides]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: At ease! Good night, ladies.
Recruits: Good night, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [to the watchman] Hit it, sweetheart.

---

Private Cowboy: You know there's not a single horse in the entire country of Vietnam? There's definitely something wrong with that.

---

Private Cowboy: I think what she's trying to say is that you black boys pack too much meat.

---

Pogue Colonel: Marine, what is that button on your body armor?
Private Joker: A peace symbol, sir.
Pogue Colonel: Where'd you get it?
Private Joker: I don't remember, sir.
Pogue Colonel: What is that you've got written on your helmet?
Private Joker: "Born to Kill", sir.
Pogue Colonel: You write "Born to Kill" on your helmet and you wear a peace button. What's that supposed to be, some kind of sick joke?
Private Joker: No, sir.
Pogue Colonel: You'd better get your head and your ass wired together, or I will take a giant shit on you.
Private Joker: Yes, sir.
Pogue Colonel: Now answer my question or you'll be standing tall before the man.
Private Joker: I think I was trying to suggest something about the duality of man, sir.
Pogue Colonel: The what?
Private Joker: The duality of man. The Jungian thing, sir.
Pogue Colonel: Whose side are you on, son?
Private Joker: Our side, sir.
Pogue Colonel: Don't you love your country?
Private Joker: Yes, sir.
Pogue Colonel: Then how about getting with the program? Why don't you jump on the team and come on in for the big win?
Private Joker: Yes, sir.
Pogue Colonel: Son, all I've ever asked of my marines is that they obey my orders as they would the word of God. We are here to help the Vietnamese, because inside every gook there is an American trying to get out. It's a hardball world, son. We've gotta keep our heads until this peace craze blows over.
Private Joker: Aye-aye, sir.

---

Animal Mother: You a photographer?
Private Joker: I'm a combat correspondent.
Animal Mother: Well, you seen much combat?
Private Joker: I've seen a little on TV.
Animal Mother: You're a real comedian.
Private Joker: Well they call me the Joker.
Animal Mother: Well I got a joke for you. I'm gonna tear you a new asshole.
Private Joker: [Joker does his John Wayne impersonation]
Private Joker: Well, pilgrim, only after you eat the peanuts out of my shit.
Animal Mother: You talk the talk. Do you walk the walk?

---

Private Joker: I wanted to see exotic Vietnam... the crown jewel of Southeast Asia. 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!

---

Animal Mother: Freedom?
[scoffs]
Animal Mother: You'd better flush out your head, new guy. This isn't about freedom; this is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is "poontang".

---

Private Joker: A day without blood is like a day without sunshine.

---

Door Gunner: Git some! Git some! Git some, yeah, yeah, yeah! Anyone who runs, is a VC. Anyone who stands still, is a well-disciplined VC! You guys oughta do a story about me sometime!
Private Joker: Why should we do a story about you?
Door Gunner: 'Cuz I'm so fuckin' good! I done got me 157 dead gooks killed. Plus 50 water buffalo too! Them's all confirmed!
Private Joker: Any women or children?
Door Gunner: Sometimes!
Private Joker: How can you shoot women or children?
Door Gunner: Easy! Ya just don't lead 'em so much! Ain't war hell?

---

Chili: You weren't on Operation Hastings, Payback. You weren't even in country.
Private Payback: Oh, eat shit and die, you fucking Spanish American. You fucking *pogue*! I was there man! I was in the shit with the grunts!

---

[Cowboy is sending Eightball to investigate an area for enemies]
Private Cowboy: Eightball, let's dance.
Private Eightball: Put a nigger behind the trigger!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Pickett!
Pickett: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 0300. Infantry. Toe Jam!
Toe Jam: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 0300. Infantry. Adams!
Adams: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 1800. Engineers. You go out and find mines. Cowboy!
Private Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 0300. Infantry. Taylor!
Taylor: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 0300. Infantry. Joker!
Private Joker: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 4212. Basic Military Journalism. You gotta be shittin' me, Joker. You think you're Mickey Spillane? You think you're some kind of a fuckin' writer?
Private Joker: Sir, I wrote for my high school newspaper, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Jesus H. Christ! You're not a writer. You're a killer!
Private Joker: A killer, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Gomer Pyle. GOMER PYLE!
Private Gomer Pyle: [staring into space] Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You forget your fuckin' name? 0300. Infantry. You made it.

---

[at the Firing Range, Pvt. Pyle is shooting at the targets, doing an impressive job while Hartman watches]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Outstanding, Private Pyle. I think we finally found something that you do well.
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What's your sixth general order?
Private Joker: Sir, the private's sixth general order is to receive, obey, and pass on to the sentry who relieves me... all orders - Sir, the private's sixth general order - Sir, the private has been instructed, but he does not know, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You slimy scumbag! Get on your face and give me 25.
Private Joker: Sir, aye-aye, sir!
[Gunnery Sgt. Hartman walks toward Pvt. Pyle; Pyle holds up his rifle]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: How many counts in that movement you just executed?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, 4 counts, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What's the idea of looking down in the chamber?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, that is to guarantee that the private is not giving the inspecting officer a loaded weapon, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What's your fifth general order?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, the private's fifth general order is to quit my post only when properly relieved, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What's this weapon's name, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, the private's weapon's name is Charlene, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Pyle, you are definitely born again hard. Hell, I may even allow you to serve as a rifleman in my beloved Corps.
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

---

Private Joker: [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 Joker: [narrating] Our last night on the island. I drew fire watch.

---

Private Joker: I wanna slip my tube steak into your sister. What'll you take in trade?
Private Cowboy: What do you got?

---

Da Nang Hooker: Hey, baby. You got girlfriend Vietnam?
Private Joker: Not just this minute.
Da Nang Hooker: Well, baby, me so horny. Me so HORNY. Me love you long time. You party?
Private Joker: Yeah, we might party. How much?
Da Nang Hooker: Fifteen dollar.
Private Joker: Fifteen dollars for both of us?
Da Nang Hooker: No. Each you fifteen dollar. Me love you long time. Me so HORNY.
Private Joker: Fifteen dollar too beaucoup. Five dollars each.
Da Nang Hooker: Me sucky-sucky. Me love you too much.
Private Joker: Five dollars is all my mom allows me to spend.
Da Nang Hooker: Okay. Ten dollar each.
Private Joker: What do we get for ten dollars?
Da Nang Hooker: Every t'ing you want.
Private Joker: Everything?
Da Nang Hooker: Every t'ing.
Private Joker: [to Rafterman] Well, old buddy, feel like spending some of your hard-earned money?

---

Private Eightball: What we have here, little yellow sister, is a magnificent specimen of pure Alabama Blacksnake. But it ain't too goddamned beau coup.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Joker, do you believe in the Virgin Mary?
Private Joker: Sir, no, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Well, well, Private Joker, I don't believe I heard you correctly!
Private Joker: Sir, the private said "no, sir," sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Why you little maggot, you make me want to vomit!
[slaps Joker]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 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 ya?
Private Joker: Sir, NEGATIVE, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Joker, are you trying to offend me?
Private Joker: Sir, NEGATIVE, sir! Sir, the private belives any answer he gives will be wrong and the Senior Drill Instructor will only beat him harder if he reverses himself, SIR!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Who's your squad leader, scumbag?
Private Joker: Sir, the squad leader is Private Snowball, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Snowball!
Private Snowball: Sir, Private Snowball reporting as ordered, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Snowball, you're fired. Private Joker's promoted to squad leader.
Private Snowball: Sir, aye-aye, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Disappear, scumbag!
Private Snowball: Sir, aye-aye, sir!

---

Private Cowboy: Tough break for Hand Job. He was all set to get shipped out on a medical.
Private Joker: What was the matter with him?
Private Cowboy: He was jerkin' off ten times a day.
Private Eightball: No shit. At least ten times a day.
Private Cowboy: Last week he was sent down to Da Nang to see the Navy head shrinker, and the crazy fucker starts jerking off in the waiting room. Instant Section Eight. He was just waiting for his papers to clear division.

---

Private Eightball: Personally, I think, uh... they don't really want to be involved in this war. You know, I mean... they sort of took away our freedom and gave it to the, to the gookers, you know. But they don't want it. They'd rather be alive than free, I guess. Poor dumb bastards.

---

Animal Mother: Well, if you ask me, uh, we're shooting the wrong gooks.

---

T.H.E. Rock: You're going home now.
Crazy Earl: Semper fi.
Donlon: We're mean marines, sir.
Private Eightball: Go easy, bros.
Animal Mother: Better you than me.

---

Private Joker: Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
Private Cowboy: Hey, start the cameras. This is "Vietnam - the Movie."
Private Eightball: Yeah, Joker can be John Wayne. I'll be a horse.
Donlon: T.H.E. Rock can be a rock.
T.H.E. Rock: I'll be Ann-Margret.
Doc Jay: Animal Mother can be a rabid buffalo.
Crazy Earl: I'll be General Custer.
Private Rafterman: Well, who'll be the Indians?
Animal Mother: Hey, we'll let the gooks play the Indians.

---

Private Joker: Is that you John Wayne? Is this me?

---

Lt. Lockhart: Charlie has hit every major military target In Vietnam, and hit 'em hard. In Saigon, the United States Embassy has been overrun by suicide squads. Khe Sahn is standing by to be overrun. We also have reports that a division of N.V.A. has occupied all of the city of Hue south of the Perfume River. In strategic terms, Charlie's cut the country in half... the civilian press are about to wet their pants and we've heard even Cronkite's going to say the war is now unwinnable. In other words, it's a huge shit sandwich, and we're all gonna have to take a bite.
Private Joker: Sir... does this mean that Ann-Margret's not coming?
Lt. Lockhart: Joker... I want you to get straight up to Phu Bai. Captain January will need all his people.
Private Joker: Yes, sir.
Lt. Lockhart: And Joker, you will take off that damn button. How's it gonna look if you get killed wearing a peace symbol?
Private Rafterman: Sir? Permission to go with Joker?
Lt. Lockhart: Permission granted.
Private Rafterman: Thank you, sir.
Private Joker: Sir, permission not to take Rafterman with me?
Lt. Lockhart: You still here? Vanish, Joker, most ricky-tick, and take Rafterman with you. You're responsible for him.

---

Private Eightball: Hey, what the mother fuck?

---

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

---

Animal Mother: All fucking niggers must fucking hang.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: As soon as your bunks are done, I want you two turds to clean the head.
Joker and Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I want that head so sanitary and squared-away that the Virgin Mary herself would be proud to go in and take a dump.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Are you shook up? Are you nervous?
Private Cowboy: Sir, I am, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Do I make you nervous?
Private Cowboy: Sir?
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: "Sir" what? Were you about to call me an asshole?

---

[Referring to Lee Harvey Oswald and mass murderer Charles Whitman]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Do any of you people know where these individuals learned how to shoot?... Private Joker.
Private Joker: Sir. In the Marines, Sir.
Gunnery Sergeant 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.

---

[first lines]
Gunnery Sergeant 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?
Recruits: Sir, yes sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.
Recruits: SIR, YES SIR!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What's your excuse?
Private Cowboy: Sir, excuse for what, sir?
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I'm asking the fucking questions here private. Do you understand?
Private Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Well thank you very much, can I be in charge for a while?
Private Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir.

---

[Marching Song]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I don't know but I been told...
Marines: I don't know but I been told...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Eskimo pussy is mighty cold.
Marines: Eskimo pussy is mighty cold.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: MMM, good...
Marines: MMM, good...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Tastes good...
Marines: Tastes Good...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Feels Good.
Marines: Feels good.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Did your parents have any children that lived?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, Yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I bet they regret that? You're so ugly you can be a modern art master piece! What's your name fat buddy?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, Leonard Lawrence, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Lawrence? Lawrence what... of Arabia?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, No, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, No, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Do you suck dicks?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, No, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit. I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose.
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, No, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I don't like the name Lawrence, only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you're Gomer Pyle.
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, Yes, sir.

---

Private Joker: [narrating] Parris Island, South Carolina. The Marine Corps Training Depot. An eight-week college for the phony tough and the crazy brave.

---

Private Joker: Ya know, half of these gook whores are serving officers in the Viet Cong; the other half have got T.B. Be sure you only fuck the ones that cough.

---

Private Eightball: Believe it or not, but under fire, Animal Mother can be a wonderful human being. All he needs is somebody throwing grenades at him 'til the end of his life.

---

Private Payback: Joker ain't never been in the shit. He thinks "The Bad Bush" is between old mama-san's legs.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What is this Mickey Mouse shit? What are you two animals doing in my beloved head? Why is Private Pyle out of his bunk after lights out? Why is Private Pyle holding that weapon? Why are you not stomping Private Pyle's guts out?
Private Joker: Sir, it is the private's duty to inform the senior drill instructor that Private Pyle has a full magazine that is locked and loaded, Sir!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Holy Jesus! What is that? What the fuck is that? WHAT IS THAT, PRIVATE PYLE?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, a jelly doughnut, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: A jelly doughnut?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: How did it get here?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, I took it from the mess hall, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Is chow allowed in the barracks, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, no, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Are you allowed to eat jelly doughnuts, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, no, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: And why not, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, because I'm too heavy, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Because you are a disgusting fat body, Private Pyle!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Then why did you try to sneak a jelly doughnut in your foot locker, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, because I was hungry, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Because you were hungry...
[turns and addresses rest of platoon]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Pyle has dishonored himself and dishonored the platoon. I have tried to help him. But I have failed. I have failed because YOU have not helped me. YOU people, have not given Private Pyle the proper motivation! So, from now on, whenever Private Pyle fucks up, I will not punish him! I will punish all of YOU! And the way I see it ladies, you owe me for ONE JELLY DOUGHNUT! NOW, GET DOWN ON YOUR FACES!
[rest of recruits get in front-leaning-rest position, Hartman turns to Pyle]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Open your mouth!
[shoves jelly doughnut into PYLE's mouth]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: They're payin' for it; YOU eat it! Ready! Exercise!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What's your name, scumbag?
Private Snowball: Sir, Private Brown, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit! From now on you're Private Snowball. Do you like that name?
Private Snowball: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant 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.
Private Snowball: Sir, yes, sir!

---

[being interviewed]
Animal Mother: What do I think about the U.S. involvement in the war? We should win it.

---

[when Private Pyle is on the obstacle course]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Get your fat ass up there! I'll bet if there was some pussy up there you would get up there, wouldn't you?
Private Pyle: Sir, yes sir!

---

[after Joker kills the sniper]
Private Rafterman: [laughs] Hey Joker, we ought to put you up for the congressional medal of... ugly! Ha-ha!
Donlon: Hard core man, hard core.

---

Private Joker: Sir, the private believes that any answer he gives will be wrong! And his senior drill instructor will beat him harder if he reverses himself, sir!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Pyle!
Private Gomer Pyle: Private Pyle reporting as ordered, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant 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!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, aye aye, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Joker, he's silly and he's ignorant, but he's got guts and guts is enough. Now you two ladies carry on!
Private Gomer Pyle, Private Joker: Sir, aye aye, sir!

---

Animal Mother: Fuck you Cowboy, fuck all of you assholes!

---

[the recruits have administered a "sock party" beating on Private Pyle]
Private Cowboy: Remember, this was all just a bad dream, fat boy!

---

[an ARVN pimp and his hooker drive towards the Marines]
ARVN pimp: Do you want number one fuckee?

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [after discovering Private Pyle's unlocked footlocker] Jesus H Christ. Private Pyle, why is your footlocker unlocked?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, I don't know, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Pyle, if there is one thing in this world that I hate, it is an unlocked footlocker! You know that don't you?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: If it wasn't for dickheads like you, there wouldn't be any thievery in this world, would there?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, no, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: GET DOWN!

---

Lt. Lockhart: [reading] ... we have a new directive from M.A.F. on this. In the future, in place of "search and destroy," substitute the phrase "sweep and clear." Got it?
Private Joker: Got it. Very catchy.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Pick 'em up and set 'em down Pyle!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Do you feel dizzy? Do you feel faint! Jesus H. Christ! I think you've got a hard-on!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [calling out to platoon] Left shoulder, hut!
[Pyle accidentally puts his rifle on his right shoulder, then corrects quickly, but not before Hartman sees it. He walks up on him]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Pyle, what are you trying to do to my beloved Corps?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, I don't know, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You are dumb, Private Pyle, but do you expect me to believe that you don't know left from right?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, no, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Then you did that on purpose! You wanna be different!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, no, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [slaps Pyle hard on the left hand side of his face] What side was that, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, left side, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [shouts] Are you sure, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [slaps him hard again, this time on right side of his face, knocking his hat off]
[shouts]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What side was that, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle: [nearly in tears] Sir, right side, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Don't fuck with me again, Pyle! Pick up your fuckin' cover!
Private Gomer Pyle: Sir, yes, sir!

---

Private Joker: What do we get for ten dollars?
Da Nang Hooker: Every t'ing you wan'.
Private Joker: Everything?
Da Nang Hooker: Every t'ing.
Private Joker: [to Rafterman] Whaddya think, man? Ready to spend some of your hard-earned money?

---

Vietcong Sniper: Shoot... me. Sh-oooot... me...

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [Pvt. Joker is doing pull-ups. Hartman counts them off]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: One for the Commandant! One for the Corps! Come on Joker, pull! Pull!
[Pvt. Joker can't complete another pull-up]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I guess the Corps don't get theirs!
[Pvt. Joker moves on. Pvt. Pyle steps up to the bar]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Get up there, fat boy!
[Pvt. Pyle tries with all his might, but cannot do a single pull-up]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Come on, Pyle! Pull! Pull! You mean to tell me you can't do one single pull up Pyle? You are a worthless piece of shit, Pyle! Get outta my face!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Ho Chi Minn is a son of a bitch.
Recruits: [singing] Ho Chi Minn is a son of a bitch.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Got the blueballs, crabs and the seven-year-itch!
Recruits: [singing] Got the blueballs, crabs and the seven-year-itch!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Come on, guys. Assholes and elbows.

---

Animal Mother: Fucking son of a bitch! YOU MOTHERFUCKER! WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] I don't want no teenage queen!
Recruits: [singing] I don't want no teenage queen!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] I just want my M-14!
Recruits: [singing] I just want my M-14!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] If I die in the combat zone...
Recruits: [singing] If I die in the combat zone...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Box me up and ship me home!
Recruits: [singing] Box me up and ship me home!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Pin my medals up on my chest!
Recruits: [singing] Pin my medals up on my chest!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Tell my mom I've Done my best!
Recruits: [singing] Tell my mom I've Done my best!

---

[last lines]
Marines: [singing] M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me? M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. We were sparked from coast to coast and far across the sea. M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. Mickey Mouse. Mickey Mouse. Forever let us hold our banner high. High. High. High. High. We paly fair but we work hard and we're in harmony. M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. Hey there! Hi there! Ho there! You're as welcome as can be. M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. Mickey Mouse. Mickey Mouse. Forever let us hold our banner high. High. High. High. High. Boys and girls from far and near are welcome as can be. M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. Come along and sing a song you're welcome as can be. M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. Mickey Mouse...

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 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!
[Gunnery Sgt. Hartman grabs Pvt. Cowboy by the shirt]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh?
Private Cowboy: Sir, no Sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You little piece of shit! You look like a fucking worm! I bet it was you!
Private Cowboy: Sir, no Sir!
Private Joker: Sir, I said it, Sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 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!
[Gunnery Sgt. Hartman punches Pvt. Joker in the stomach]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You little scumbag! I got your name! I 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 unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!
Private Joker: Sir, Yes sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps?
Private Joker: Sir, to kill, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: So you're a killer?
Private Joker: Sir, yes sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Then let me see your war face!
Private Joker: [nervously] Sir?
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You got a war face! AAAAAAAAHH! That's a war face, let me see your war face!
Private Joker: Ahhhh!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Bullshit. You didn't convince me. let me see your REAL war face!
Private Joker: [Screaming] AHHHHHHHHHHH!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You don't scare me! Work on it!
Private Joker: Sir, yes sir!

---

Doc Jay: Cowboy!
Private Cowboy: What?
Doc Jay: We can't leave him out there!
Private Cowboy: We're not leaving,we'll get him when the tank comes up.
Doc Jay: He's hit three fuckin' times, he can't wait that long.
Private Cowboy: I've seen this before, that sniper is just trying to suck us in one at a time.
Private Cowboy: [Eightball is shot a fourth time by the sniper and screams]
[Animal Mother opens fire]
Private Cowboy: Goddam it! No! Goddamit cease fire!
Doc Jay: Man, fuck this! Fuck this shit! I'm going in to bring him out.
Private Cowboy: No you sit the fuck down!
Doc Jay: Cover me!
[Runs out in the open to save Eightball]
Private Cowboy: Goddamit! Fuck!
[the Lusthog Squad opens fire]

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Mama and Papa were laying in bed!
Recruits: [singing] Mama and Papa were laying in bed!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Mama rolled over this is what she said
Recruits: [singing] Mama rolled over this is what she said
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] 'Oh, give me some...
Recruits: [singing] 'Oh, give me some...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] 'Oh, give me some...
Recruits: [singing] 'Oh, give me some...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: P.T.
Recruits: P.T.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Good for you
Recruits: Good for you
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Good for me!
Recruits: Good for me!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Mmm, good!
Recruits: Mmm, good!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Up in the morning to the rising sun!
Recruits: [singing] Up in the morning to the rising sun!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Gotta run all day... till the running's done!
Recruits: [singing] Gotta run all day... till the running's done!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Ho Chi Minh is a son of a bitch!
Recruits: Ho Chi Minh is a son of a bitch!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Got the blueballs, crabs and the seven-year itch!
Recruits: Got the blueballs, crabs and the seven-year itch!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Reveille! Reveille! Reveille! Drop your Cocks and grab your socks! Today is Sunday! Devine Worship is at 0800. Get your bunks made and get your uniforms on! Police call will commence in two minutes!

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [chanting] This is my rifle.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [grabbing his crotch] This is my gun.
Marines: This is for fighting.
Marines: [grabbing their crotches] This is for fun.

---

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: 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, EVERY MARINE is your BROTHER!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Most of you will go to Vietnam! Some of you will NOT COME BACK! But, always remember this - the Marine Corps lives FOREVER! And, that means you will live FOREVER!

Marvin: I think you ought to know I'm feeling very depressed.
Trillian: Well, we have something that may take your mind off it.
Marvin: It won't work, I have an exceptionally large mind.
Trillian: Yeah, we know.

---

Trillian: Let's go somewhere.
Arthur: Where did you have in mind?
Trillian: Madagascar.
Arthur: That new club on Dean Street?
Trillian: No, it's a country. Off the coast of Africa.

---

Arthur: All my life I've had this strange feeling that there's something big and sinister going on in the world.
Slartibartfast: No, that's perfectly normal paranoia. Everyone in the universe gets that.

---

Ford: [after being thrown into the airlock by a guard] Wash your filthy hands!
[looks around]
Ford: Don't panic... don't panic...
Arthur: So this is it. We're gonna die.
Ford: Yeah. We're gonna die.
[pauses]
Ford: No... no! What's this?
[goes over to control panel]
Arthur: What's that?
Ford: What's this...? What's this...?
[flips switch]
Ford: This... is... nothing. Yeah, we're gonna die.

---

Marvin: Life? Don't talk to me about life!

---

Vogon: [being chased by Ford Prefect with a towel] He's got a TOWEL!

---

Slartibartfast: I must warn you, we're going to pass through, well, a sort of gateway thing.
Arthur Dent: What?
Slartibartfast: It may disturb you. It scares the willies out of me.

---

Ghostly Image: It is most gratifying that your enthusiasm for our planet continues unabated. As a token of our appreciation, we hope you will enjoy the two thermonuclear missiles we've just sent to converge with your craft. To ensure ongoing quality of service, your death may be monitored for training purposes. Thank you.

---

Arthur Dent: Just wait a sodding minute! You want a question that goes with the answer for 42? Well, how about what's six times seven? Or how many Vogons does it take to change a lightbulb? Here's one! How many roads must a man walk down?
Lunkwill: Hey, that's not bad!
Arthur Dent: Fine. Fine, take it. Because my head is filled with questions and I can assure you no answer to any one of them has ever brought me one iota of happiness. Except for one. The one. The only question I've ever wanted an answer to - is she the one? The answer bloody well isn't forty-two, it's yes. Undoubtedly, unequivocally, unabashadly yes. And for one week, one week in my sad little blip of an existence, it made me happy.
Trillian: That's a good answer...
Lunkwill: Rubbish, we don't want to be happy, we want to be famous!
Fook: Yeah! What is all this "is she the one" tripe?
Lunkwill: Take his brain!

---

Trillian: Well, this is weird.

---

The Book: It is important to note that suddenly, and against all probability, a Sperm Whale had been called into existence, several miles above the surface of an alien planet and since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity. This is what it thought, as it fell:
The Whale: Ahhh! Woooh! What's happening? Who am I? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Okay okay, calm down calm down get a grip now. Ooh, this is an interesting sensation. What is it? Its a sort of tingling in my... well I suppose I better start finding names for things. Lets call it a... tail! Yeah! Tail! And hey, what's this roaring sound, whooshing past what I'm suddenly gonna call my head? Wind! Is that a good name? It'll do. Yeah, this is really exciting. I'm dizzy with anticipation! Or is it the wind? There's an awful lot of that now isn't it? And what's this thing coming toward me very fast? So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide sounding name like 'Ow', 'Ownge', 'Round', 'Ground'! That's it! Ground! Ha! I wonder if it'll be friends with me? Hello Ground!
[dies]
The Book: Curiously the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias, as it fell, was, 'Oh no, not again.' Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly *why* the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the universe than we do now.

---

Trillian: I should have said it resembles tea.

---

Zaphod: Why'd you pick up hitchhikers?
Trillian: I didn't. The ship did.

---

Zaphod: She digs me.

---

Zaphod: That doesn't sound good.

---

Trillian: You idiot! You signed the order to destroy Earth!
Zaphod: I did?
Arthur: He did?
Trillian: Love and kisses Zaphod? You didn't even read it, did you?
Zaphod: Well, I'm president, I don't have a lot of time for reading.
Trillian: My whole planet destroyed because you thought someone wanted your autograph!

---

Zaphod: Some parts of my character weren't what you'd call presidential.

---

Ford, Zaphod: Belgium.

---

Ford: That's awkward.

---

Arthur: Let's go somewhere.
Trillian: Definitely. Where'd you have in mind?
Ford: I know this great restaurant at the end of the universe.

---

Arthur Dent: I'm sorry, did you just say you needed my brain?
Fook: Yes, to complete the program.
Arthur Dent: Well, you can't have it, I'm using it!
Fook: Hardly.
Arthur Dent: Cheeky mouse...

---

Mr. Prosser: Do you know how much damage this bulldozer would sustain if I just let it roll over you?
Arthur: How much?
Mr. Prosser: None at all.

---

Ford: You're looking for the Ultimate Question.
Zaphod: Yep.
Ford: You.
Zaphod: Me.
Ford: Why?
Zaphod: No, I tried that: Why? 42. Doesn't work.

---

Title card: For Douglas.

---

[Waiting for Trillian to be released]
Zaphod: Who are we waiting for again?
[Waits for a reply]
Zaphod: No, I'm serious.

---

Slartibartfast: [talking about the Earth] Best laid plans of mice.
Arthur: And men.
Slartibartfast: What?
Arthur: Best laid plans of mice and men.
Slartibartfast: Oh. No, I don't think men had much to do with it.

---

Arthur: [Trillian has been captured by Vogons]
[bursts into a random Vogon building with Marvin's arm, hoping they think it's a gun]
Arthur: All right! Where is she!
[sees he's in a waiting room]
Vogon Secretary: Who? The Director of Robot Arm Repair?

---

Trillian: Who are you?
Arthur: Er, Dent, Arthur Dent.
Trillian: No, I mean *who* are you?
Arthur: Oh, the costume. Er, Livingston I presume. Yeah. Not as good as Darwin I know but the best I could manage at short notice.
Trillian: You're the first person whose gotten that right. Everyone keeps calling me Santa.
Arthur: Really?
Trillian: Yeah, and I thought the beagle made it a dead giveaway.
Arthur: Well, I suppose most of the people who come to these parties are drunken idiots.
Trillian: What?
[the record player is bumped, the music stops]
Arthur: I said all these people are idiots!
[everyone stares at him]
Arthur: Oh god...

---

Humma Kavula, Congregation: [singing] Oh mighty Arkleseizure, thou gazed from high above. And sneezed from out thy nostrils, a gift of bounteous love. The universe around us emerged from thy nose. Now we await with eager expectation, thy handkerchief, to bring us back to thee.
[End singing]
Zaphod: Hello Humma.
Humma Kavula: Let us pray. Oh mighty one, we raise our noses to you blocked and unblown, send the handkerchief O blessed one that we may be wiped clean.
Congregation: Atchoo!
Humma Kavula: Bless you.

---

Slartibartfast: You must come with me.
Arthur Dent: Who are you?
Slartibartfast: What? No. My name's not important. You must come with me, or you'll be late.
Arthur Dent: Late for what?
Slartibartfast: Well, um, what's your name Earthman?
Arthur Dent: Dent. Arthur Dent.
Slartibartfast: Well, late as in *the late* Dentarthurdent. It's a sort of threat. You see?
Arthur Dent: No.
Slartibartfast: Your friends are safe, you can trust me.
Arthur Dent: Trust a man who won't even tell me his name?
Slartibartfast: Well, um, my name is, um, it's
[hurriedly]
Slartibartfast: Slartibartfast.
Arthur Dent: What?
Slartibartfast: I *said* it wasn't important.

---

[first lines]
The Book: It's an important and popular fact that things are not always what they seem. For instance, on the planet Earth, Man had always assumed that he was the most intelligent species occupying the planet, instead of the *third* most intelligent. The second most intelligent creatures were of course dolphins who, curiously enough, had long known of the impending destruction of the planet earth. They had made many attempts to alert mankind to the danger, but most of their communications were misinterpreted as amusing attempts to punch footballs or whistle for titbits. So they eventually decided they would leave earth by their own means. The last ever dolphin message was misinterpreted as a surprisingly sophisticated attempt to do a double backward somersault through a hoop while whistling the star-spangled banner, but in fact the message was this: So long and thanks for all the fish.

---

[to Arthur, shortly after they first meet]
Trillian: I want to go somewhere I've never been, and I'd like to go with you.

---

Humma Kavula: [confronting Zaphod Beeblebrox for the first time after losing the Galactic Presidential Election to him] The election is ancient history, Zaphod. If memory serves, you won, proving that good looks and charm win over brilliance and the ability to govern. And for the record? You *are* stupid.

---

Trillian: [Zaphod aims the Point of View gun at Trillian] It won't affect me, I'm already a woman.

---

Fook: [about to be squished] Oh, bollocks!

---

Arthur: Ford?
Ford: Yeah?
Arthur: I think I'm a sofa...
Ford: [pause] I know how you feel...

---

Marvin: You can blame the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation for making androids with GPP...
Arthur: Um... what's GPP?
Marvin: Genuine People Personalities. I'm a personality prototype. You can tell, can't you...?

---

Arthur Dent: It's a big-biggy Ford, a big-biggy! I mean what if it rips us all into tiny little atomic partical things?
Zaphod: This is the right one! I have a hunch!
Ford: [smiling] His hunches are good! Arthur! I say we go!
Arthur Dent: Go with a hunch of a man who's brain is fueled by lemons?

---

Jeltz: Apathetic bloody planet. I've no sympathy at all.

---

Zaphod: If there's anything around here more important than my ego, I want it caught and shot now!

---

The Book: According to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the best drink in the known universe is the Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. It has the effect of having your brains smashed out with a slice of lemon... wrapped around a large gold brick.

---

[Slartibartfast is showing Arthur the progress on the New Earth. They pass a construction worker]
Slartibartfast: That's Frank.

---

Zaphod: Let's trip the Light Fantastic, baby, just you and me.

---

Trillian: I have a plan.
Arthur: Does it involve pushing him out there and then running the other way?

---

The Book: The Encyclopedia Galactica, in its chapter on Love states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if at all possible. Unfortunately, Arthur Dent has never read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

---

The Book: Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience members died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. The very worst poetry in the universe was written by Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex. Thankfully it was destroyed when the earth was.

---

Arthur: Normality? We can talk about normality until the cows come home.
Ford: What is normal?
Trillian: What is home?
Zaphod: What're cows?

---

Marvin: [as they are gazing at the wonder of Magrathea] Incredible... it's even worse than I thought it would be.

---

[Arthur and Ford have each been unexpectedly hit in the face by some unknown flyswatter-like thing]
Zaphod: [after finally also being hit in the face] Zarquon! What was that? Geez...
Marvin: [depressed] I'd make a suggestion, but you wouldn't listen.
[even more depressed]
Marvin: No one ever does.

---

Ford: I checked The Guide for the best way to rescue a prisoner from Vogsphere, it said "don't".

---

The Book: "The Babel fish," said The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy quietly, "is small, yellow and leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy not from its carrier but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with nerve signals picked up from the speech centres of the brain which has supplied them. The practical upshot of all this is that if you stick a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language. The speech patterns you actually hear decode the brainwave matrix which has been fed into your mind by your Babel fish. "Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mindboggingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as the final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God. "The argument goes something like this: 'I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, 'for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.' "'But,' says Man, 'The Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.' "'Oh dear,' says God, 'I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanished in a puff of logic. "'Oh, that was easy,' says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing. "Most leading theologians claim that this argument is a load of dingo's kidneys, but that didn't stop Oolon Colluphid making a small fortune when he used it as the central theme of his best- selling book Well That About Wraps It Up For God. "Meanwhile, the poor Babel fish, by effectively removing all barriers to communication between different races and cultures, has caused more and bloodier wars than anything else in the history of creation."

---

Marvin: [as Vogons fire at the group] Don't see what the big deal is... Vogons are some of the worst shots in the galaxy...
Marvin: [one hits Marvin, leaving a smoking hole in his head. he turns] Now I've got a headache!

---

[deleted scene]
Questular Rontok: [runs to the demolished caravan to find Zaphod unconcious inside] Mr President! Oh, thank god. I tried to prevent all this from happening, but forces beyond my control made it impossible for me to stop them. And even stronger forces are making it impossible for me to stop doing this right now!
[kisses Zaphod, waking him up]
Zaphod: [throws Questular off him] Zarquon, woman! Are you insane? You're my vice-president! In the name of liberty, and freedom, and people, and... stuff... let's do that again!
[they kiss passionately]

---

Eddie the Computer: Guys, I am just pleased as punch to inform you that there are two thermo-nuclear missiles headed this way... if you don't mind, I'm gonna go ahead and take evasive action
Arthur Dent: COMPUTER DO SOMETHING!
Eddie the Computer: Sure thing fella! Switching over to manual control... good luck!
[Ship's engines immediately stop and ship falls]

---

Marvin: Freeze? I'm a robot. I'm not a refrigerator.

---

Marvin: I've been talking to the main computer.
Arthur: And?
Marvin: It hates me.

---

Marvin: I've been talking to the ship's computer.
Arthur: And?
Marvin: It hates me.

---

Zaphod: Far out!

---

Zaphod: HUMMA KAVULA!

---

News Reader: Humma Kavula is best known for his slanderous "Don't vote for stupid" campaign and claimed that most people thought they were voting for the worst dressed sentient being in the universe contest.

---

The Book: A man who no more knows his destiny than a tea leaf knows the history of the East India company.

---

Ford: You don't remember. Arthur, your whole planet has been destroyed.
Arthur: Couldn't you have done something?
Ford: I saved your life.

---

Arthur: A cup of tea would restore my normality.

---

Arthur: I have to say, without the beard you look at least 80 years younger.
Trillian: Well, maybe I'm de-evolving?
Arthur: Ha ha!
Trillian: Ha ha!
Arthur: Well, I should inform you that I don't date single-celled organisms.

---

The Book: This man is a 5'8" ape descendant and someone is trying to drive a bypass through his house.

---

Zaphod: I can't do this without my third arm!

---

Arthur: See, normally I hate those sorts of parties. I'd much rather stay at home, I don't know, ironing me hankies.

---

The Book: Space, says the introduction to the guide, is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind bogglingly big it is. And so on.

---

Arthur: Humma Kavula is person? I thought he was swearing!

---

Arthur: [as a yarn doll] I think I'm gonna be sick!
Zaphod: Hey, do it in the trash can, Earth man, this ship is brand new.
Arthur: [vomits coloured yarn]

---

[last lines]
Marvin: Not that anyone cares what I say, but the restaurant is at the *other* end of the Universe.

---

Trillian: Marvin... you saved our lives!
Marvin: I know. Wretched, isn't it?

---

Arthur: So this is it. We're going to die
Ford: Yes. Would you like a hug?
Arthur: No.

---

Arthur: Ok. Leave this to me. I'm British. I know how to queue.

---

Vogon: Oh no, he's closed the gate from the inside, we'll have to go round.

---

Marvin: I've calculated your chance of survival, but I don't think you'll like it.

---

Barman: Did you say the world is coming to an end? Shouldn't we all lie on the floor or put paper bags over our heads?
Ford: If you like.
Barman: Will it help?
Ford: Not at all.
[Ford runs out of the pub]
Barman: Last orders, please!

---

Zaphod: [to Arthur] I like those jammies.

---

Lunkwill: Do you...
Deep Thought: Have an answer for you? Yes. But you're not going to like it.
Fook: Please tell us. We must know!
Deep Thought: Okay. The answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything is...
[wild cheers from audience, then silence]
Deep Thought: 42.

---

Arthur: Go with the hunch of a man whose brain is fuelled by lemons?

---

[Marvin, Trillian, Ford, Arthur and Zaphod are being fired upon by Vogons - the others flee as Marvin only very slowly walks away]
Marvin: I don't know what you're all worried about. Vogons are the worst marksmen in the galaxy.
[he is shot in the back of the head]
Marvin: Now I've got a headache.

---

The Book: Vogons. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the galaxy. Not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious, and callous. They wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the ravenous Bug-Blatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, lost, found, queried, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighter. On no account should you allow a Vogon to read poetry to you.

---

Questular Rontok: [about Trillian] She's lying. She's skinny, and she's pretty, and she's lying!

---

Ford: Time is an illusion. Lunchtime, doubly so.

---

Ghostly Image: We are pleased to see that your enthusiasm for our planet continues unabated, and would like you to know that the two thermonuclear missiles currently converging upon your vessel are merely a courtesy we extend to all prospective customers.

---

Zaphod: I'm sensing a lot of hostility from you, Alex.
Arthur: Arthur!
Zaphod: Have you ever tried yoga?

---

Marvin: This will all end in tears.

---

Marvin: [Trillian, Ford, and Zaphod have gone through the portal and left Arthur and Marvin behind] I told you this would all end in tears.
Arthur: Did you? Did you?

---

Arthur: It must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

---

Zaphod: [to Trillian] Hey slim, are you wearing my underwear? 'Cause I'm wearing yours, and they're not doing the trick.

---

Fook: We don't want to be happy, we want to be famous.

---

Marvin: Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and they ask me to take you to the bridge. Call that job satisfaction, 'cause I don't.

---

Vogon: Resistance is useless!

---

Ford: If you want to survive out here, you've got to know where your towel is.

---

Zaphod: Hey! Is this guy boring you? Why don't you come talk to me instead? I'm from a different planet. Seriously!
[laughs]
Zaphod: You want to see my spaceship?

---

The Book: In the beginning the universe was created. This made a lot of people angry and has widely been considered as a bad move.

---

Ford: We must talk.
Arthur Dent: Not now, Ford. They're gonna demolish my home.
Ford: Whoah! Whoah! Whoah! You know already?
[Arthur doesn't understand. Ford looks at the workers around him]
Ford: Oh, *they*! When you say "they" you mean *they*!

---

Ford: [distracting the men about to demolish Arthur's house] Workers of the earth! I bring... good tidings of peanuts! And beer!

---

Ford: Didn't you think it was strange I was trying to shake hands with a car?
Arthur: I assumed you were drunk.
Ford: I thought cars were the dominant lifeform. I was trying to introduce myself.

---

Trillian: I have the president and I will kill him, I swear I will.
Jeltz: Could that actually kill him?
Questular Rontok: I don't think so. It's an aerosol can.

---

Ford: [talking about Zaphod] He's my semi half brother.
Zaphod: He shares three of the same mothers as me.

---

Trillian: See this? This detects what you're craving and makes it for you. And this? This toasts bread while you're slicing it. We're on a space ship Arthur. In space.

---

The Book: [about the Point of View Gun] The Point of View gun conveniently does precisely what its name suggests. That is if you point it at someone and pull the trigger, they instantly see things from your point of view. It was designed by Deep Thought, but commissioned by a consortium of intergalactic angry housewives, who after countless arguments with their husbands were sick to the teeth of ending those arguments with the phrase "You just don't get it, do you?"

---

Zaphod: Why so edgy, baby doll? Relax.
Trillian: Why so edgy? You wanna know why I'm edgy?
[fires Point-Of View gun at Zaphod]
Zaphod: [from Trillian's view] Of course you're edgy. Your planet's been blown up and you've been tooling round the galaxy with the guy who signed the order. You actually wanted to know the question because you always wondered if there was more to life and now you're crushed because you find out there really isn't.
Zaphod: [from Zaphod's view] Hey, fantastic. Psychedelic.
Zaphod: [from Trillian's view] You have no home and no family and now you're stuck with me, another in a long line of men who doesn't really get you.
Zaphod: [from Zaphod's view] That's not true.
Zaphod: [from Trillian's view] And you're worried that you might have blown it with the one guy who really does.
Zaphod: Oh, baby doll. Give me that thing.
[takes Point-Of-View gun off Trillian and aims it at her]
Trillian: It won't affect me. I'm already a woman.

---

Trillian: So much for the laws of physics.

---

Humma Kavula: Even an improbability drive needs coordinates which I happen to have.

---

Humma Kavula: What does Zaphod Beeblebrox treasure most?

---

Ford: What's with the whole two-head thing?
Zaphod: Oh, yeah, apparently you can't be president with a whole brain.

---

Arthur: So you're not from Guildford. Which would explain the accent.

---

The Book: It is of course well known that careless talk costs lives, but the full scale of the problem is not always appreciated. For instance, at the very moment that Arthur Dent said "I wouldn't want to go anywhere without my wonderful towel," a freak wormhole opened up in the fabric of the space-time continuum and carried his words far far back in time across almost infinite reaches of space to a distant Galaxy where strange and warlike beings were poised on the brink of frightful interstellar battle. The two opposing leaders, resplendent in their black jewelled battle shorts, were meeting for the last time, when, a dreadful silence fell, and, at that very moment, the words, "I wouldn't want to go anywhere without my wonderful towel" drifted across the conference table. Unfortunately, in their native tongue, this was the most appalling insult imaginable, so the two opposing battle fleets decided to settle their few remaining differences in order to launch a joint attack on our galaxy, now positively identified as the source of the offending remark. For thousands of years the mighty starships tore across the empty wastes of space and finally dived screaming on to the planet Earth - where, due to a terrible miscalculation of scale, the entire battle fleet was accidentally swallowed by a small dog. Those who study the complex interplay of cause and effect in the history of the Universe say that this sort of thing is going on all the time.

---

Gag Halfrunt: Zaphod's just zis guy, ya know?

---

Slartibartfast: I'd much rather be happy than right any day.
Arthur: And are you?
Slartibartfast: Ahh... No.

---

Slartibartfast: Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I think that the chances of finding out what's actually going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say, "Hang the sense of it," and keep yourself busy. I'd much rather be happy than right any day.
Arthur Dent: And are you?
Slartibartfast: Ah, no.
[laughs, snorts]
Slartibartfast: Well, that's where it all falls down, of course.

---

Zaphod: This is it. I have a hunch.
Ford: His hunches are good.

---

Ford: [as they are about to be shot into space, he dabs Arthur's face with a towel] You're sweating.

---

Lunkwill: Drink up.
Arthur: Thank you.
Fook: Now, to business.
Ford, Zaphod: [drunkenly toasting] To business!
Lunkwill, Fook: Eat!
Zaphod: [quietly] Sorry.

---

Zaphod: You Zarkin' Frood!

---

Zaphod: We just hit that button and whoo! Magrathea. I think, I mean we've hit it twice and we're still not there.

---

Trillian: We don't know why we're here. We were trying to get to Magrathea and our ship brought us here.
Humma Kavula: How very... improbable.

---

Zaphod: Oh Deep Thought! We have travelled long... and far. Have you calculated the ultimate question?
Deep Thought: [yawns] No. I've been watching the TV.

---

Zaphod: Circus! Circus!

---

Zaphod: He's a guest on my ship! He's a guest on my shiiiip!
Ford: I thought you said you stole it.

---

Trillian: Buttons aren't toys.

---

Ford: [watching the Magrathean recording of Deep Thought] Is that it?
Zaphod: No, there's more. They go back.
Arthur: What, seven and a half million years later?
Zaphod: Yeah, they do.

---

Zaphod: Hey. Sorry to hear about your planet. What was it called again?
Arthur: Earth.
Zaphod: Yeah, Earth. I liked Earth. I got these boots on Earth. Anyway, don't tell the girl, OK? Cause if you do, I'll pull your spleen out through your throat.

---

Trillian: How badly does it hurt?
Arthur: It doesn't feel great.

---

Arthur: She was amazing though, Ford. Beautiful, witty, mad as a balloon.

---

Arthur Dent: Here I was thinking I was the only one who considered your boyfriend a narcissistic moron, when apparently the whole galaxy does.

---

The Book: What to do if you find yourself stuck with no hope of rescue: Consider yourself lucky that life has been good to you so far. Alternatively, if life hasn't been good to you so far, which given your present circumstances seems more likely, consider yourself lucky that it won't be troubling you much longer.

---

Ford: Okay, don't think. Nobody think. No ideas. No theories. No nothing.
[a beat. They all strain to think of nothing. Several paddles shoot up out of the ground smacking them in their faces]
Ford, Arthur, Zaphod: Ow!

---

Ford: [about Vogons] They don't think, they don't imagine, most of them can't even spell, they just run things. And if we don't hitch a ride soon, you won't need the guide to tell you just how unpleasant they can be. They already destroyed a planet today, and that always makes them a little... eeee!

---

Arthur: I think that door just sighed.
Marvin: Ghastly, isn't it? All the doors on this spaceship have been programmed to have a cheery and sunny disposition.

---

Zaphod: In the name of people, and freedom, and democracy, and stuff like that, I hereby kidnap myself, and I'm taking this ship with me. Whoo!

---

Zaphod: He did say the gray building, right?
Ford: All the buildings are gray.

---

Zaphod: [everything appears to be made of yarn] WOW! Is this gonna happen every time we hit that button?
Trillian: Very probably, yes.

---

Marvin: I have a million ideas, but, they all point to certain death.
Arthur: Thanks very much, Marv!

---

The Book: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. More popular, certainly more successful than the Celestial Home Care Omnibus, better selling than Fifty-Three More Things to do in Zero Gravity, and more controversial than Oolon Colluphid's trilogy of philosophical blockbusters Where God Went Wrong, Some More of God's Greatest Mistakes and Who is this God Person Anyway?

---

The Book: Presidents don't have power, their purpose is to draw attention away from it.

---

Ghostly Image: Greetings. This is a recorded announcement as we are all out at the moment. The Commercial Council of Magrathea thanks you for your esteemed visit but regrets that the entire planet is temporarily closed. If you would like to leave your name and a planet where you can be contacted, kindly do so at the tone.

---

Eddie the Computer: Engaging Infinite Improbability Drive...
Ford: No, no, no... Zaphod, buttons aren't toys! What did you do?

Captain Miller: James Francis Ryan of Iowa?
Private Ryan: Yes, sir. Paton, Iowa, that's correct. What is this about?
Captain Miller: Your brothers were killed in combat.
Private Ryan: Which - Which ones?
Captain Miller: All of them.

---

Private Jackson: What I mean by that, sir, is if you was to put me and this here sniper rifle anywhere up to and including one mile from Adolf Hitler... with a clean line of sight... Pack your bags, fellas. War's over.

---

Gen. George C. Marshall: I have here a very old letter, written to a Mrs. Bixby in Boston. "Dear Madam: I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant-General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom. Yours very sincerely and respectfully, Abraham Lincoln."

---

Captain Miller: Caparzo, get that kid back up there!
Private Caparzo: Captain, the decent thing to do would be take her over to the next town.
Captain Miller: We're not here to do the decent thing, we're here to follow fucking orders!

---

Private Reiben: You want to explain the math of this to me? I mean, where's the sense in risking the lives of the eight of us to save one guy?
Captain Miller: Anyone wanna answer that?
Medic Wade: Hey, think about the poor bastard's mother.
Private Reiben: Hey, Wade, I got a mother, you got a mother, the sarge has got a mother. I'm willing to bet that even the Captain's got a mother. Well, maybe not the Captain, but the rest of us have got mothers.

---

Sergeant Horvath: You don't know when to shut up; you don't know HOW to shut up!

---

Private Reiben: I got a bad feeling about this one.
Captain Miller: When was the last time you felt good about anything?

---

Captain Miller: Well when I think of home, I... I think of something specific. I think of my, my hammock in the backyard or my wife pruning the rosebushes in a pair of my old work gloves.
Private Ryan: This, this one night, two of my brothers came and woke me up in the middle of the night. And they said they had a surprise for me. So they took me to the barn up in the loft and there was my oldest brother, Dan, with Alice, Alice Jardine. I mean, picture a girl who just took a nosedive from the ugly tree and hit every branch coming down. And... and Dan's got his shirt off and he's working on this bra and he's tryin to get it off and all of a sudden Shawn just screams out, "Danny you're a young man, don't do it!" And so Alice Jardine hears this and she screams and she jumps up and she tries to get running out of the barn but she's still got this shirt over her head. She goes running right into the wall and knocks herself out. So now Danny's just so mad at us. He, he starts coming after us, but... but at the same time Alice is over there unconscious. He's gotta wa... , wake her up. So he grabs her by a leg and he's drag, dragging her. At the same time he picks up a shovel. And he's going after Shawn, and Shawn's saying, "What are you trying to hit me for? I just did you a favor!" And so this makes Dan more angry. He tries to swing this thing, he looses the shovel, goes outta his grasp and hits a kerosene lantern; the thing explodes, the whole barn almost goes up because of this thing. That was it. That was the last, that was, Dan went off to basic the next day. That was the last night the four of us were together. That was two years ago. Tell me about your wife and those rosebushes?
Captain Miller: No, no that one I save just for me.

---

Captain Miller: It's like finding a needle in a stack of needles.

---

Private Reiben: You wouldn't shoot the kraut and now you're gonna shoot me?
Sergeant Horvath: He's better than you.

---

Sergeant Horvath: This time the mission is the man.

---

Captain Hamill: You got to take Caen so you can take Saint Lo.
Captain Miller: You've got to take Saint Lo to take Valognes.
Captain Hamill: Valognes you got Cherbourg.
Captain Miller: Cherbourg you got Paris.
Captain Hamill: Paris you got Berlin.
Captain Miller: And then that big boat home.

---

[Miller purposely draws fire]
Sergeant Horvath: Captain, if your mother saw you do that, she'd be very upset.
Captain Miller: I thought *you* were my mother.

---

Private Reiben: What's the saying? "If God's on our side, who the hell could be on theirs?"
Upham: "If God is for us, who could be against us?"
Private Reiben: Yeah, what'd I say?

---

[Arguing about whether or not to attack the radio nest]
Mellish: I'm just saying, this seems like an unnecessary risk considering our objective, sir.
Captain Miller: Our objective is to win the war.

---

Captain Miller: Keep the sand out of your weapons. Keep those actions clear. I'll see you on the beach.

---

Captain Miller: [Approaching the beach] Port side stick, starboard side stick, move fast and clear those murder holes.
Sergeant Horvath: I wanna see plenty of beach between men. Five men is a juicy opportunity, one man's a waste of ammo.
Captain Miller: Keep the sand out of your weapons, keep those actions clear. I'll see you on the beach.

---

Captain Miller: [shouting] Bangalores, clear the shingle.
Private: Fire in the hole.
Sergeant Horvath: Fire in the hole.
Private: Fire in the hole.
Private: [lights his bangalore]
Medic Wade: Fire in the hole.
[Bangalors blow up and the barbed wire is gone]

---

Captain Miller: COVERING FIRE!

---

Medic Wade: We stopped the bleeding! We stopped the bleeding!
[a bullet hits the patient in the head]
Medic Wade: Fuck! Just give us a fucking chance you son of a bitch! You son of a fucking cocksucker!

---

[Srgt. Horvath just got shot for the third time]
Captain Miller: Mike, Are you all right?
Sergeant Horvath: I just got the wind knocked out of me. I'm fine!

---

[talking about how to disable the tanks]
Captain Miller: You take a standard G.I sock, cram it with as much Composition B as it can hold, rig up a simple fuse, the coat the whole thing with axel grease. Now when you throw it, it should stick. Its a bomb that sticks, its a "sticky bomb". Think of a better way to knock out the tracks, I'm all ears.
Private Reiben: This is great, now we gotta surrender our socks.

---

Corporal Upham: [Wade lying down, shivering with pain and anguish, after being shot through the stomach] Tell us what to do... tell us how to fix you.
Captain Miller: What can we do Wade? Tell us what to do.
Medic Wade: [Wade still shivering] I could use some... I could use a little Morphine.
Captain Miller: [Capt. Miller to Sergeant Horvath] Okay... Give it to him... Give it him!

---

Captain Miller: I just know that every man I kill, the farther away from home I feel.

---

Captain Miller: Back home, when I'd tell people what I do for a living, they'd think, "Well, yeah, that figures." But over here, it's a... a big mystery. So I guess I've changed some.

---

Private Ryan: Uh sir? Where am I to be during all this?
Captain Miller: No more than two feet away from me. And that's not negotiable.

---

Private Reiben: [shouts at Private Ryan] Hey asshole! Two of our guys died trying to find you all right?

---

Captain Miller: Get your gear. Let's go.
[Reiben stays put]
Sergeant Horvath: You heard him, gear up. Your captain just gave you an order.
Private Reiben: Yeah, like the one he gave to take this machine gun. That was a real doosey, wasn't it?
[walks over to Miller]
Sergeant Horvath: Soldier, you are way out of line!
Private Reiben: Yes sir, that was one hell of a call coming to take this nest, but hell, we only lost one of our guys going for it. That's right, I hope Mama Ryan's real fuck'n happy knowing that Little Jimmy's life is a little bit more important than two of our guys! But then again we haven't found him yet have we? Have we?

---

Sergeant Horvath: That's quite a view.
Captain Miller: Yes it is. Quite a view.

---

Lieutenant Dewindt: FUBAR.
Private Reiben: FUBAR.
Sergeant Horvath: FUBAR.
Captain Miller: FUBAR
Private Jackson: Y'all got that right.
Corporal Upham: I looked up "fubar" in the German dictionary and there's no fubar in here.

---

Corporal Upham: Caparzo, is it?
Private Caparzo: Hey Corporal, drop dead!
Corporal Upham: Got you.
Private Caparzo: And another thing, every time you salute the Captain, you make him a target for the Germans. Do us a favor. Don't do it. Especially when I'm standing next to him, capisci?
Corporal Upham: Uh, capisci.

---

Private Jackson: I wouldn't venture out there fellas. This sniper's got talent.

---

Private Reiben: You know what that song reminds me of? It reminds me of Mrs. Rachel Troubowitz and what she said to me the day I left for basic.
Mellish: What, don't touch me?
Private Reiben: No, Mrs. Rachel Troubowitz was our super's wife. She comes into my mom's shop to try on a few things, all right? And she's easily like a uh, a 44 double E. These things are massive. And I've got her convinced that she's like a 42D, all right. So we're in the dressing room, she's trying to squeeze into this side cut, silk ribbonned, triple panel girdle with the uh, shelf-lift brassiere and it's beautiful because she's just pouring outta this thing, you know? It's beautiful. And she sees me and she can tell I got a hard on the size of the statue of liberty, all right? And she says to me, "Richard, calm down." And she says, "Now when you're over there, if you see anything that upsets you, if you're ever scared, I want you to close your eyes and think of these. You understand?" So I said, "Yes, ma'am."

---

Captain Miller: James Francis Ryan from Iowa?
Private Ryan: Yes sir. How'd you guess that?

---

[last lines]
Old James Ryan: Tell me I have led a good life.
Ryan's Wife: What?
Old James Ryan: Tell me I'm a good man.
Ryan's Wife: You *are*.

---

Gen. George C. Marshall: That boy is alive. We are gonna send somebody to find him. And we are gonna get him the Hell... outta there.

---

Captain Miller: Whose goin' left?
Private Jackson: I'll do it. I'll go left.

---

Medic Wade: Actually, the trick to falling asleep is trying to stay awake.
Mellish: How is that, Wade?
Medic Wade: Well, when my mother was an intern, she used to work late through the night... sleep through the day. So the only time we'd ever get to talk about anything is when she'd get home. So what I... I used to do, I used to lie in my bed and try to stay awake as long as I could, but it never worked 'cause... 'cause the harder I'd try, the faster I'd fall asleep.
Private Reiben: Yeah well, that wouldn't have mattered none in my house. My ma, she would've come home, shook me awake, chatted me up 'til dawn. I swear that woman was never too tired to talk.
Mellish: That was probably the only time she could get a word in.

---

Medic Wade: Only thing is, sometimes she'd come home early, and I'd pretend to be asleep
Mellish: Who, your mom?
Medic Wade: Yeah. She'd stand in the doorway looking at me... and I'd just keep my eyes shut. And I knew she just wanted to find out about my day - that she came home early... just to talk to me. And I still wouldn't move... I'd still pretend to just be asleep. I don't know why I did that.

---

Captain Miller: [to the squad while pointing at Caparzo's dead body] THIS is why we don't pick up children!

---

Corporal Upham: "Theirs is not to reason why, theirs is but to do or die."
Mellish: La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

---

Corporal Upham: "War educates the senses, calls into action the will, perfects the physical constitution, brings men into such swift and close collision in critical moments that man measures man."
Captain Miller: I guess that's Emerson's way of finding the bright side.

---

Steamboat Willie: Please, I like America! Fancy schmancy! What a cinch! Go fly a kite! Cat got your tongue! Hill of beans! Betty Boop, what a dish. Betty Grable, nice gams.
Steamboat Willie: singing: I say can you see! I say can you see! I... I say...
Steamboat Willie: Fuck Hitler. Fuck Hitler!

---

[talking about Capt. Miller]
Corporal Upham: Reiben, so you even know where he went to school?
Private Reiben: Cap'n didn't go to school, they assembled him at OSC outta spare body parts of dead GIs.
Private Caparzo: You gotta pay attention to detail, I know exactly where he's from and I know exactly what he did 'cuz I pay attention to detail.
Private Jackson: Hey, Upham, careful you don't step in the bullshit!

---

Gen. George C. Marshall: My dear Mrs Ryan: It's with the most profound sense of joy that I write to inform you your son, Private James Ryan, is well and, at this very moment, on his way home from European battlefields. Reports from the front indicate James did his duty in combat with great courage and steadfast dedication, even after he was informed of the tragic loss your family has suffered in this great campaign to rid the world of tyranny and oppresion. I take great pleasure in joining the Secretary of War, the men and women of the U.S. Army, and the citizens of a grateful nation in wishing you good health and many years of happiness with James at your side. Nothing, not even the safe return of a beloved son, can compensate you, or the thousands of other American families, who have suffered great loss in this tragic war. I might share with you some words which have sustained me through long, dark nights of peril, loss, and heartache. And I quote: "I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the alter of freedom." -Abraham Lincoln. Yours very sincerely and respectfully, George C. Marshall, General, Chief of Staff.

---

Captain Miller: Private, I'm afraid I have some bad news for ya. Well, there isn't any real easy way to say this, so, uh, so I'll just say it. Your brothers are dead. We have, uh, orders to come get you, 'cause you're going home.
Pvt. James Frederick, Ryan: [starts sobbing] Oh, my God, my brothers are dead. I was gonna take 'em fishing when we got home. How - How did they die?
Captain Miller: They were killed in action.
Pvt. James Frederick, Ryan: No, that can't be. They're both - That... That can't be. My brothers are still in grammar school.
Captain Miller: You're James Ryan?
Pvt. James Frederick, Ryan: Yeah.
Captain Miller: James Francis Ryan from Iowa?
Pvt. James Frederick, Ryan: James Frederick Ryan, Minnesota.
[the whole crew looks embarrassed]
Pvt. James Frederick, Ryan: Well, does that - does that mean my brothers are OK?
Captain Miller: Yeah, I'm sure they're fine.

---

Mellish: Fucked up beyond all recognition.
Upham: FUBAR.

---

Sergeant Horvath: Maybe I should go up the middle, sir.
Captain Miller: The way you run? I don't think so.
Sergeant Horvath: Maybe I should go up the left, sir.
Captain Miller: Maybe you should shut up!

---

Sergeant Horvath: Why don't you just hand 'em blindfolds, Captain?
Captain Miller: All we can do here is die.

---

[first lines]
Ryan's son: [running to comfort his father] Dad?
[flashback to D-Day]
LCVP pilot: Clear the ramp! Thirty seconds. God be with ya!

---

Private: They're killing us and we don't have a fuckin' chance and that's not fair.

---

Private: Don't shoot! Let them burn!

---

Captain Miller: This is all? That's all that've made it?
Sergeant Horvath: We're scattered pretty bad, sir. There's bound to be more of us.
Captain Miller: Not enough, this is not enough.
Sergeant Horvath: Dog One-It's got to be the cut on the right, or is it the one on the left, shit!
Captain Miller: No, no. Vierville is to the west of us, so this is Dog One.

---

Sergeant Horvath: We're in business!

---

Captain Miller: [after Reiben courageously saves Ryan from being hit by a tank shell] . RYAN!
[run to the building Reiben pulled Ryan behind]
Captain Miller: Ryan.
Private Ryan: [to Reiben, who is sitting on Ryan] Get off of me!
Captain Miller: Are you all right?
Private Ryan: Uhh! GET OFF OF ME!
Private Reiben: Yeah. I'm fine too Captain. Thanks.

---

Mellish: [as a column of German prisoners passes by] Juden.
[pauses]
Mellish: Juden.
[pauses]
Mellish: Juden!
Mellish: [shows star of David necklace to prisoners] I'm Juden, you know?
[pauses]
Mellish: Juuuuuuuuuuuuden!

---

Mellish: [as a column of German prisoners passes by] Juden.
[pauses]
Mellish: Juden.
[pauses]
Mellish: Juden!
Mellish: [Shows star of David necklace to prisoners] I'm... Juden, you know?
[pauses]
Mellish: Juuuuuuuuuuuuden!

---

Mellish: [to Dagwood DuselDorf] Your father was circumcised by my rabbi, you prick!

---

Parker: [firing machine gun] I'm out of .30 Caliber!
Private Jackson: [lining shots] Bleesed be the Lord my strength, which teaches my hands to the war, and my fingers to fight.
[fires rifle twice]
Private Jackson: My goodness and my fortress... my high tower and my Deliverer.
[fires rifle]
Private Jackson: My shield, and he in whom I trust
Private Jackson: [fires rifle, then to his rifle]
Private Jackson: Here you go baby.
[fires rifle few more times. Notices a tank has spotted them]
Private Jackson: Parker get down!
[the tank fires at the bell tower killing both Parker and Jackson]

---

[lining up a rifle shot]
Private Jackson: Be not Thou far from me, O Lord.

---

[lining up a rifle shot]
Private Jackson: Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teaches my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.

---

[lining up a rifle shot]
Private Jackson: My goodness, and my fortress; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust.

---

[lining up a rifle shot]
Private Jackson: O my God, I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not my enemies triumph over me.

---

Captain Miller: [on Omaha Beach] Bangalors up the line!Bagalors up the line!
Sergeant Horvath: Heads up, bangers comin' your way.
Private Caparzo: [a soldier's helmet is struck by a bullet and he then takes it off] Jesus, lucky bastard.
[the other soldier is then shot in the head and falls dead]

---

Old James Ryan: [addressing Capt. Miller’s grave] My family is with me today. They wanted to come with me. To be honest with you, I wasn't sure how I'd feel coming back here. Every day I think about what you said to me that day on the bridge. I tried to live my life the best that I could. I hope that was enough. I hope that, at least in your eyes, I've earned what all of you have done for me.
Ryan's Wife: James?...
[looking at headstone]
Ryan's Wife: Captain John H Miller.
Old James Ryan: Tell me I have led a good life.
Ryan's Wife: What?
Old James Ryan: Tell me I'm a good man.
Ryan's Wife: You are.
[walks away]
Old James Ryan: [stands back and salutes]

---

Paratrooper Mandelsohn: We missed our drop zone by about 20 miles, ended up way over by Bumville or some damn place.

---

Mellish: [shouting] Upham! Upham! Ammo goddamn it!

---

Private: [shouting and under intense fire] What's the rallying point?
Captain Miller: Anywhere but here!

---

Private Reiben: [after staring at Caparzo's dead body] Fuck Ryan.

---

Captain Miller: This Ryan better be worth it. He'd better go home and cure some disease or invent a longer-lasting lightbulb or something. 'Cause the truth is, I wouldn't trade 10 Ryans for one Vecchio or one Caparzo.
Sergeant Horvath: Amen.

---

Upham: So where are you from, Captain? What'd you do before the war?
Captain Miller: What's the pool up to?
Upham: [chuckles] Uh... up over three hundred, sir.
Captain Miller: Well, when it gets up to five hundred, I'll give you the answers and we'll split the money. How about that?
Upham: Well, if that's the way you feel sir, then I feel it's my duty and your command to suggest that we wait until it gets up to a thousand, sir.
Captain Miller: [pause] What if we don't live that long?
Upham: [makes a show of considering] Five hundred?
Captain Miller: Five hundred would be good, yeah. Get some sleep Corporal.
Upham: Yes, sir.

---

Mellish: Fucked up beyond all recognition.
Upham: [Thinks for a moment] FUBAR!

---

Lt. Col. Anderson: What about *our* casualties?
Captain Miller: Well, the figures were, 35 dead, times two wounded. They just didn't wanna give up those 88s.
Lt. Col. Anderson: It was a tough assignment, that's why you got it.
Captain Miller: Yes, it was.
Lt. Col. Anderson: John, I've got another one for ya...
Captain Miller: Yes, Sir.
Lt. Col. Anderson: This one's straight from the top...

---