Full Metal Jacket Quotes.

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Are you quitting on me? Well, are you? Then quit, you slimy fucking walrus-looking piece of *BLEEP*! Get the *BLEEP* off of my obstacle! Get the *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* Fantasy. I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece and short. I'm in a world of *BLEEP*... yes. But I am alive. And I am not afraid.
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 *BLEEP* belongs to the Corps! Do you ladies understand?
Private Cowboy: Don't *BLEEP* me, man!
Private Joker: I wouldn't *BLEEP* 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.
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 *BLEEP*. 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: How tall are you, private?
Private Cowboy: Sir, five-foot-nine, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Five-foot-nine, I didn't know they stacked *BLEEP* that high.
Private Joker: Leonard, if Hartman finds us here, we'll be in a world of *BLEEP*.
Private Gomer Pyle: I *am*... in a world... of *BLEEP*.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Were you born a fat, slimy, scumbag puke piece o' *BLEEP*, 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 *BLEEP* up there by now, wouldn't he?
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I bet you're the kind of guy that would *BLEEP* a person in the *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* 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-*BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* away and start shitting me Tiffany cufflinks or I will definitely *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* wired together, or I will take a giant *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP*.
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 *BLEEP* and die, you fucking Spanish American. You fucking *pogue*! I was there man! I was in the *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP*. 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 *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP*?
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Holy dog *BLEEP*. 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 *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP*. He thinks "The Bad Bush" is between old mama-san's legs.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What is this Mickey Mouse *BLEEP*? 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 *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* 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: *BLEEP* you Cowboy, *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP* 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 *BLEEP*, Pyle! Get outta my face!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [singing] Ho Chi Minn is a son of a *BLEEP*.
Recruits: [singing] Ho Chi Minn is a son of a *BLEEP*.
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 *BLEEP*! 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 *BLEEP* said that? Who's the slimy little communist *BLEEP*, 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 *BLEEP*, huh?
Private Cowboy: Sir, no Sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You little piece of *BLEEP*! 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 *BLEEP*. 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 *BLEEP* my sister!
[Gunnery Sgt. Hartman punches Pvt. Joker in the stomach]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: You little scumbag! I got your name! I got your *BLEEP*! 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 *BLEEP* 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, *BLEEP* this! *BLEEP* this *BLEEP*! I'm going in to bring him out.
Private Cowboy: No you sit the *BLEEP* down!
Doc Jay: Cover me!
[Runs out in the open to save Eightball]
Private Cowboy: Goddamit! *BLEEP*!
[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 *BLEEP*!
Recruits: Ho Chi Minh is a son of a *BLEEP*!
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!

you got to be kidding me...

EROS wrote:you got to be kidding me...

Wat's so about it?

Where did ya find em?

there is no motherf****** way u could get me to read that bull****

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Well, no *BLEEP*. 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 *BLEEP* my sister!

what was even the point is this thing? lmao i don't get it at all.

yobanjojoe wrote:there is no motherf****** way u could get me to read that bull****

hehe, true...