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: What's the matter with Mary Ellen? John-Boy
: Well, she's just crazy, everybody goes crazy when you're thirteen. Mary Ellen
: The world is a big round ball! Eight-thousand miles smack through the middle! Waltons Mountain is just a tiny speck on it!
: CALM DOWN NOW! JUST HOLD IT! Olivia
: You watch your temper! You're the oldest, you make them mind! John-Boy
: Well I am tired of being the oldest! I feel like an old mother duck! Olivia
: Can't do a thing about that now. You're stuck with it. John-Boy
: [Quietly, to the kids
] All right next - the next one of you that moves is gonna get a spanking!
: Grandpa, do we got something to show we own Walton's Mountain? Grandpa
: You can't own a mountain any more than you can own an ocean or a piece of the sky. You hold it in trust. You live on it, you take life from it, and once you're dead, you rest in it. John-Boy
: I'd just as soon not think about that part. Grandpa
: You're not ready for it yet. John-Boy
: Are you? Grandpa
: There's your tree, Boy! John-Boy
: Woo-hoo! She's a dandy, Grandpa! Grandpa
: It's the one I've watched grow all the time of its life. John-Boy
: You sure know how to pick'em!
: John Boy, did you go crazy when you were 13. John-Boy
: I didn't have time. I was so busy taking care of YOU CHILDREN!
: What were you doing up there? John-Boy
: Nothing, Mama. Olivia
: Then what's the door locked for? John-Boy
: I reckon it just got locked. Olivia
: A door don't get locked all by itself. Now what were you doing up there behind locked doors? John-Boy
: Sometimes I like a little privacy, Mama.
: This is fought-for land. John-Boy
: Battles right here? Grandpa
: More than one: flood, fire, freezing weather, diptheria, scarlet fever, whooping cough, loneliness, hard times. John-Boy
: I thought you meant wars. Grandpa
: Them too.
: Santa Claus is gonna take one look at that bird poop and he's gonna head right back up the chimney.
: You know what's in that tablet, Mama? All my secret thoughts. What I feel and what I think about. What it's like late at night to hear a whipoorwill call and hear it's mate call back. The rumbling of the midnight train crossing the tressel at Rockfish, or just watching the water go by the creek and knowing some day it will reach the ocean, wondering if I'll ever seen an ocean and what a wonder that would be. You know, Mama, sometimes I hike on over to the highway and I sit and watch the buses go by and the people in them and I'm wondering what they're like and what they say to each other and where they're bound for. Things stay in my mind, I can't forget anything and it all get's bottled up in here and sometimes I feel like a crazy man. I can't rest or sleep or anything until I rush up here and write it down in that tablet. Sometimes I think I really am crazy.
: Good night, John Boy. John-Boy
: Good night, Elizabeth. Good night, Daddy. John
: Good night, Son. Good night, Mary Ellen. Mary Ellen
: Good night, Daddy. Good night, Mama. Olivia
: Good night, Mary Ellen. Good night, Jim Bob. Jim Bob
: Good night, Mama. Good night, Erin. Erin
: Good night, Jim Bob. Good night, Ben. Ben
: Good night, Erin. Good night, everybody.
: It'll never come to that. Franklin D. Roosevelt is gonna put this country on its feet again. You mark my words. John-Boy
: [Imitating F.D.R
] My friends, and you are my friends... Grandma
: Now you hush with that disrespect. He's your president.
: Nobody ever gave away anything worth keeping, I guess.
: [John-Boy had just received a bunch of tablets from his father
] I wonder how word got all the way to the North Pole that you wanted to be a writer. John-Boy
: [Near tears
] Well I guess he must be a right smart man. John
: I don't know a thing about the writing trade, son. But if you wanna take it up, you gotta give it your best.
: Is Daddy home yet? Olivia
: Not yet. Who was that that let you off down by the gate? John-Boy
: That was Miss Mamie and Miss Emily Baldwin. They gave me a ride home in their pappy's sleigh. Olivia
: What am I gonna do with you, boy? I send you looking for your daddy and you end up joyriding with two old lady BOOTLEGGERS! John-Boy
: I wasn't joyriding, Mama. They took me to look for Daddy. We got right far but there a tree down in the road stopped us dead.
: What's that you got in your hand? John-Boy
: It's a present, Mama, from Miss Mamie and Miss Emily. Olivia
: Bootleg whiskey. Don't those crazy old women know I don't allow whiskey in this house? I've got young children in this house! What sort of example do they think we set here? You take it out yonder and pour it on the ground! John-Boy
: It's not whiskey, Mama, it's egg nog. Olivia
: [after pause
] I ought to be ashamed of myself.
: They think they can give me a college education Olivia Spencer
: Well, I vow sometimes educated people has less brains than fools Clayboy Spencer
: Wouldn't you want me to go? Olivia Spencer
: I'd rather you go to college than anything in the whole world, but just where they think we can raise that kind of money when your father even worked overtime to get you a graduation ring, did you ever see university boys, there rich boys, their daddys have money or they wouldn't even let them inside the gates.
: [to all his younger siblings
] What are you kids doing here? Back to bed, all of you! Clayboy Spencer
: [to Patty-Cake
] And if you get up another time tonight, I'm gonna' spank your behind so shiny you can see yourself in it!
: Who's kidding who? They just don't want me! Can't you see that?
Man in back of bus
: [Last lines: Clayboy has boarded the bus, leaving home for college
] Goin' far, son? Clayboy Spencer
: Right far.
'Grandma' Esther Walton
: Jim Bob! Jason! You're playing cards in this house? Jason Walton
: Well, it's not a gambling game Grandma. John 'John Boy' Walton Jr.
: Well, I don't see anything too evil about Go Fish, Grandma. 'Grandma' Esther Walton
: Go Fish today and Poker tomorrah! The evils of gambling can put down roots in shallow ground!
: [Jim-Bob rides to the house with a letter for John-Boy, sitting on the steps, writing "10,000" in the sand
] Ten thousand what? John-Boy Walton
: Huh? Jim-Bob Walton
: I said, "Ten thousand what?" John-Boy Walton
: Ten thousand unemployed writers in this country today. Jim-Bob Walton
: That's silly. John-Boy Walton
: What's silly about ten thousand unemployed writers? Jim-Bob Walton
: Just because you're nineteen years old, doesn't mean everyone else is dumb. John-Boy Walton
: I never said you were dumb. John-Boy Walton
: Well, the way you tell it, a writer is somebody who's supposed to be somebody who thinks things up and puts 'em on paper. Jim-Bob Walton
: Well what's that got to do with anything? John-Boy Walton
: Somebody like that is working for himself, isn't he? John-Boy Walton
: Of course he's working for himself, he has to work for himself. Jim-Bob Walton
: If he's working for himself, how can he be out of a job?
: [after John Boy has read her a poem for her birthday
] John Boy, those words were just like listenin' to music.
] Olivia Walton
: I don't really understand what the poem meant, but I think those were just about the most beautiful words I ever heard. John 'John Boy' Walton Jr.
: Well, I think the poem has a meaning, um, to me, it means that some things which may seem too simple, or unimportant, or even just downright plain, those things are really every bit as important and every bit as beautiful as the most magnificent things in the whole world.
: You gonna marry Marcia Woolery? John-Boy Walton
: You want me to? Ben Walton
: She makes good gingerbread!
Mrs. Maggie Mackenzie
: [referring to the 20 dollar goldpiece, given to her as a wedding present
] Aye, and I'll never spend it. Even last year when President Roosevelt said we had to hand in all our gold coins, I just couldn'a bring myself to part with it. John 'John Boy' Walton Jr.
: Well, I'm sure Mr. Roosevelt would understand. Mrs. Maggie Mackenzie
: If not, I'm sure Mrs. Roosevelt would!
: [Elizabeth is sucking her thumb
] Elizabeth, I thought you gave that up for good. Elizabeth Walton
: I thought so too.
John 'John Boy' Walton Jr.
: [trying to convince Porter Sims not to write a damaging exposé on Judge Baldwin
] Mr. Sims, what you're doin' here may or may not be a "boondoggle". But I've known Miss Mamie and Miss Emily Baldwin ever since I was a little boy and they've been very kind to me. Now, their lives may not seem to you to be as real as yours and mine, and they may be made up of scraps of memories, and some recipe, and a little bit of fantasy. But their feelings are real, and when they feel hurt, and when they feel shame... that's real.
John 'John Boy' Walton Jr.
: Can you see our Daddy takin' tips from tourists?
: ...ississ... , John-Boy Walton
: You trying to spell Mississippi? Elizabeth Walton
: I know how to spell it. I just don't know when to stop!