I'm the only "cause" I'm interested in.

Rick

Victor Laszlo: I know a good deal more about you than you suspect. I know, for instance, that you're in love with a woman. It is perhaps a strange circumstance that we both should be in love with the same woman. The first evening I came to this café, I knew there was something between you and Ilsa. Since no one is to blame, I - I demand no explanation. I ask only one thing. You won't give me the letters of transit
Rick: You love her that much?
Victor Laszlo: Apparently you think of me only as the leader of a cause. Well, I'm also a human being. Yes, I love her that much.

I stick my neck out for nobody!

Rick

We train young men to drop fire on people, but their commanders won't allow them to write "fuck" on their airplanes because it's obscene!

Kurtz

One through nine, no maybes, no supposes, no fractions. You can't travel in space, you can't go out into space, you know, without, like, you know, uh, with fractions - what are you going to land on - one-quarter, three-eighths? What are you going to do when you go from here to Venus or something? That's dialectic physics.

Photo Journalist

Charlie don't surf!

Kilgore

You can either surf, or you can fight!

Kilgore

Disneyland? Fuck, man, this is better than Disneyland!

Lance

Oh man... the bullshit piled up so fast in Vietnam, you needed wings to stay above it.

Willard

What do you call it when the assassins accuse the assassin? A lie. A lie and we have to be merciful.

Kurtz

[voice-over] I was going to the worst place in the world and I didn't even know it yet. Weeks away and hundreds of miles up a river that snaked through the war like a main circuit cable plugged straight into Kurtz. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of Colonel Walter E. Kurtz's memory any more than being back in Saigon was an accident. There is no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story really is a confession, then so is mine.

Willard

[intercepted radio message] I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream; that's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight razor... and surviving.

Kurtz

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