Dennis Meechum: Who fucked it up?
Roberta Gillian: Nobody fucked it up, Mr. Meechum. Just don't expect Hollywood to bail you out.
Walter: Every 10 or 11,000 years I make a horrible mistake.
Walter: I want you all to consider what I am about to suggest to you. You people seem to want what we've got. Well, we have room for you. We have room for you and about 30 of your friends. You would be students of course, but you'd also be teachers. And the new civilizations you would be travelling to would be unlike anything you've ever seen before. But I promise you, you will all lead productive lives.
Ben Luckett: Forever?
Walter: We don't know what forever is.
Rosie: We're all of us prospectors up here, eh, Tyler? Scratchin' for that... that one crack in the ground. Never have to scratch again. I'll let you in on a little secret, Tyler: the gold's not in the ground. The gold's not anywhere up here. The real gold is south of 60 - sittin' in livin' rooms, stuck facin' the boob tube, bored to death. Bored to death, Tyler.
Sheriff Teasle: Are you telling me that 200 men against your boy is a no-win situation for us?
Colonel Trautman: If you send that many, don't forget one thing.
Sheriff Teasle: What?
Colonel Trautman: A good supply of body bags. (00:48:05)
Sheriff Teasle: Whatever possessed God in heaven to make a man like Rambo?
Colonel Trautman: God didn't make Rambo. I made him.
[during an argument with Remy.]
Django: Food is fuel. You get picky about what you put in the tank, your engine is going to die. Now shut up and eat your garbage.
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