Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinburg? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

Col. Jessep

You don't need a patch on your arm to have honor.

Kaffee

Galloway: Why do you hate them so much?
Lt. Weinberg: They beat up on a weakling, and that's all they did. The rest is just smokefilled coffee-house crap. They tortured and tormented a weaker kid. They didn't like him. So, they killed him. And why? Because he couldn't run very fast.

Kaffee: And don't wear that perfume in court, it wrecks my concentration.
Galloway: Really.
Kaffee: I was talking to Sam.

Is the colonel's underwear a matter of national security?

Kaffee

I can't feel my legs... Keyser.

Keaton

[after finding Fenster's body] It's not payback! It's precaution. You wan't payback, you wanna run, I don't care! I'm not doing this for Fenster, I'm not doing it for you... I'm doing it for me. I'm gonna finish this thing. This Kobayashi bastard is not gonna stand on me!

Keaton

Verbal: Can I have some coffee?
Dave Kujan: Maybe later.
Verbal: I'm really thirsty. When I was a kid I used to dehydrate, and my piss came out like snot. I mean, it was all thick and gross.

cop: You know what happens if you do another turn in the joint?
Hockney: Fuck your father in the shower and then have a snack? Are you going to charge me dickhead?

Fenster: You do some time, they never let you go. You know. They treat you like a criminal. *I'm* not a criminal.
Hockney: You *are* a criminal.
Fenster: Now why'd you got to go and do that? (I'm) trying to make a point.

My name is Kobayashi. I work for Keyser Soze.

Kobayashi

He lets the last Hungarian go. He waits until his wife and kids are in the ground and then he goes after the rest of the mob. He kills their kids, he kills their wives, he kills their parents and their parents' friends. He burns down the houses they live in and the stores they work in, he kills people that owe them money. And like that he was gone. Underground. Nobody has ever seen him since. He becomes a myth, a spook story that criminals tell their kids at night. "Rat on your pop, and Keyser Soze will get you." And no-one ever really believes.

Verbal

FREE Movie Newsletter