Doyle Hargraves
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Quotes for
Doyle Hargraves (Character)
from Sling Blade (1996)

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Sling Blade (1996)
Doyle: [to Vaughan and Karl] Hey! I said get out of my house! That goes for cocksuckers and retards! Now get up off your asses'n go! Go on!
Linda: This is not your house, Doyle. This is my house and I decide who goes and who stays. You got a house, why don't you get some of your girlfriends and go home to it?
Doyle: You know better than to talk to me like that when I'm hurtin', Linda. Don't make me knock the piss outta you.
Vaughan Cunningham: Don't you touch her.
Doyle: That's funny, Vaughan. Linda, go to bed and take little snot-nose here with you.
Linda: You're not staying here tonight. Go get sober before you come back, I'm tired of my child seeing this. Now you get your ass straight or I'll lock your ass out of my life for good.
Doyle: If you even think about leaving me, Linda, I told you: I'm gonna kill you deader than a door nail.
Linda: That might be better than this.
Vaughan Cunningham: All right, I'm a witness. I heard you threatening her.
Doyle: Hey, you get the
[shouts]
Doyle: fuck out now!

Doyle: Hey is this the kind of retard that drools and rubs shit in his hair and all that, 'cause I'm gonna have a hard time eatin' 'round that kind of thing now. Just like I am with antique furniture and midgets. You know that, I can't so much as drink a damn glass of water around a midget or a piece of antique furniture.
Linda: Doyle, you're awful. You shouldn't be that way.
Doyle: I ain't saying it's right, I'm just telling the damn truth. He'll make me sick. I know it.

Terence: We wrote one last night outside the mini mart. Morris called it "Stuart Drives A Comfortable Car" and then like in country songs, you know, in parentheses it says "There's Usually Someone in the Trunk." And, and um, I came up with a tune just a hummin'.
Doyle: See, you don't want to question the genius, Vaughan. Morris here is a modern-day poet, kinda like in olden times.
Morris: Yeah, I got a new tune in composition entitled "The Thrill." And it goes somethin' like this: "I stand on the hill, not for a thrill, but for the breath of a fresh kill. Never mind the man who contemplates doin' away with license plates. He stands alone, anyhow, bakin' the cookies of discontent by the heat of the laundromat vent. Leavin' his soul!" Then like in poetry I go dot-dot-dot, you know, kinda off center, then I drop down and then I go: "Leavin' his soul! And partin' the waters of the medulla oblongata of - -brrrrrr! - -mankind!" That was a damn good song, wasn't it Doyle?

Doyle: What am I supposed to do about supper while you're out runnin' around with that fag?
Linda: You're not crippled, get in there and make it yourself.
Doyle: Talkin' back and everything. That kinda makes me horny, Linda.
Linda: Frank, maybe you better go play in your room if Doyle's gonna talk nasty.
Frank: I don't wanna go play in my room.
Doyle: He don't wanna go play in his room. Let's all just sit here and be a family. Until your mentally retarded friend and your homosexual friend get here.

Doyle: Linda, go get my guitar. It's out there with that looney toon.

Doyle: Frank's a weak little kid. His daddy taught him how to be a pussy.
Frank: Stop it, Doyle! Don't talk about my daddy.
Doyle: "Don't talk about my daddy". Go on and get up outta here. Go out to the garage and let me be. Go on now, get!

Old Man: I wish you'd all lay off for tonight! I can't hear myself think with that racket!
Doyle: Hey! HEY!
Old Man: Knock it off or I'm calling the police!
Doyle: I told you three times already, the law's on my side! I play cards with J.D. Shelnut, chief of PO-lice! So kiss my ass, you old bastard!

Doyle: [Karl enters the bedroom, startling Doyle and Linda] Hey! What the God damn hell you doing, Karl? 'The fuck you doing up in the middle of the night?
Linda: What you want, Hon?
Karl: I wanna be baptized.
Doyle: Well get baptized then, I don't give a shit. Call up a fuckin' preacher, Goddammit, we can't baptize ya.

[Karl has entered the bedroom carrying a hammer]
Doyle: What in the hell you doin' with that hammer?
Karl: I don't rightly know. I just kinda woke up a-holding it.
[exits]
Doyle: [to Linda] What the fuck you think he's doin' with that hammer?

Doyle: Your buddy Karl here is going. We can't be no normal family with him living in the garage and comin' in the damn bedroom at 4:00 in the morning, carryin' hammers and shit.

Doyle: Now get the fuck out now before I get too mad to turn back!
Terence: What about our instruments?
Doyle: Come here, you little prick. Come here, you little fucking prick!
[Wheels him right into the door]
Doyle: Get out! All y'all, get the fuck out! Come on, you motherfuckers!
[Nobody moves]
Doyle: Get the fuck out! Randy, you tuning son of a bitch, go fucking practice, Randy!
[Noody moves]
Doyle: Come on, Morris, you fucking genius, get the fuck up and get the fuck out of here, Goddammit!

Doyle: I don't like homosexuals and she goes out and buddies up with one so I gotta deal with that. I don't like little wimpy-ass kids or mental retards and she got one of each livin' with her.
[laughs]
Doyle: I'm just kidding about that really.

Doyle: To call the police, you push 911 then just tell 'em to bring an ambulance, or a "hearst" if you're gonna kill me.

Doyle: Believe in the Bible, do ya Karl?
Karl: I don't understand all of it, but I reckon I understand a good deal of it.
Doyle: Well I can't understand none of it. This one begat that one and that one begat this one, and lo and behold someone says some shit to someone else - just how retarded are you?

Doyle: I don't mean to be so damned... well, assholish I guess would be the word.

Doyle: Hey! I said get out of my house! That goes for cocksuckers and retards!

Linda: This is not your house, Doyle. This is my house and I decide who goes and who stays. You got a house, why don't you get some of your girlfriends and go home to it?
Doyle: You know better than to talk to me like that when I'm hurtin', Linda. Don't make me knock the piss outta you.
Vaughan: Don't you touch her.
Doyle: That's funny, Vaughan. Linda, go to bed and take little snot-nose here with you.
Linda: You're not staying here tonight. Go get sober before you come back, I'm tired of my child seeing this. Now you get your ass straight or I'll lock your ass out of my life for good.
Doyle: If you even think about leaving me, Linda, I told you: I'm gonna kill you deader than a door nail.
Linda: That might be better than this.

Doyle: Was you in the nut house for hackin' somebody up with a hatchet?
Karl: I never used no hatchet that I remember. Mmm.
Doyle: So you're just crazy in a retard kind of way, huh? Wouldn't matter to me if you did do violence on someone. I ain't scared of shit. You're just a humped-over retard, seems to me. I'm just kiddin'. Welcome to our humble home, Buddy.

Morris: Dots look good on paper. You don't sing them anyway, you're just showing your true Aries color now.
Doyle: Stay out of my goddam face, you fucking buzzard!

Doyle: You know what, by God?
Linda: What?
Doyle: I know what I oughta do tonight.
Linda: Please don't.
Doyle: Mmm-hmm. I'm gonna call up Morris and have him get the band together. We're gonna have a party. Party our asses off. I'd love to show them that damn Karl. They'd get a real kick out of him. You know they would.
Linda: Please, Doyle, not tonight. They always stay until morning, I'll just give out.
Doyle: You ain't gotta do nothing, Linda. Just put some chips in a bowl and run ice out to us when we look low.
Frank: Last time you got angry and ran Morris and them off and told them to stay away from here.
Doyle: That ain't none of your damn business, besides, that's the way friends do one another! Fuck it, I'm calling them up.

Doyle: Hey, Vaughan, I heard you been putting it on ol' Albert Sellers who works over at the funeral home.
Vaughan Cunningham: I know Albert. We're friends.
Doyle: No, I heard you're more than friends. I heard Dick Rivers come in there and caught the two of you all bowled up and going at it in the same room with poor Miss Ogletree, her dead as a doornail laid out on a gurney.
Vaughan Cunningham: That is ridiculous. That is just a total lie.

Monty Johnson: This ain't right, Doyle. There IS something wrong with you.
Doyle: Get the fuck out!
Monty Johnson: Nobody wants to take this SHIT, Man!

Doyle: I don't guess I give a shit. I ain't here that much so if you want a retard living out in the garage, I guess that's your business. But I do got some tools and a set of socket wreches out there I'd rather not have stolen.
Frank: He's real honest. He wouldn't steal nothing.
Doyle: Frankie, I wasn't talking to you, now was I? I was talking to your Mama. It's her decision, not yours. If I let it go on it's because she said so, not you!

Doyle: What's in the bag?
Karl: This'n that. Tooth paste and whatnot.
Doyle: What's all them books?
Karl: Different ones. One of 'em is the Bible.

Doyle: If y'all don't shut up, I'm gonna go out of my mind. Besides, Karl here is liable to bust his spring. He's already off balance.

Doyle: [shouting] We don't got no Goddamn band! We don't need to fucking practice, Randy! We don't no shit-ass manager neither! You motherfuckers! You all are a bunch of losers! I'm the only sane son-of-a-bitch here! So get the *fuck* out of my house now!
Vaughan Cunningham: It's not your house, Doyle, it's Linda's.
Doyle: I'll whip the dog shit out of you, Vaughan. I will
[shouts]
Doyle: fucking kill you if you talk to me again!

Doyle: [Doyle, Vaughan and Karl are in Doyle's truck going to get beer] Not that you two afflicted sumbitches know anything about this, you're sitting in a crew-cab duallie pickup. In some circles, this is considered a piece of automotive art.
Vaughan Cunningham: Are you sure you can drive? You've really had alot of alcohol.
Doyle: When you been drinking as long as me, Vaughan, you build up a tolerance. Here,
[hands off his beer can]
Doyle: hide that between your legs for me.
Monty Johnson: [the truck picks up speed] Hey Doyle, slow the fuck down!

Doyle: What'cha doin' with that lawn mower blade Karl?
Karl: I aim to kill you with it.