The content of this page was created by users. It has not been screened or verified by IMDb staff.
: Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I'll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day.
: Put that back. Put it Back! We're not looting dead bodies for swag. Diaz
: You got lucky today Ottway. You should be lying there with them. Don't push it. Ottway
: I'm not going to say it again. Diaz
: Motherfucker take a big step back! Ottway
: I'm going to start beating the shit out of you in the next five seconds. And you're going to swallow a lot of blood for a fucking billfold.
: Fuck faith! Prove yourself!
: We're going to get a large branch and sharpen the end of it, and we're going to shove it up this thing's ass. Then we're going to eat it.
: You're going to die.
: Who do you love? Let them take you.
: I'm going to start beating the shit out of you in the next five seconds.
: Don't move. Stare right back at them.
: [writing his suicide letter
] There's not a second that goes by when I'm not thinking of you in some way. I want to see your face. Feel your hands in mine. Feel you against me. But I know that will never be. You left me, and I can't get you back... I move like I imagine the damned do, cursed. I feel like it's only a matter of time... I don't know why I'm writing this, I don't know what can come of it. I know I can't get you back. I don't know why this has happened to us. I feel like it's me. Bad luck. Poison. I've stopped doing this world any real good.
: Do something. Do something. You phony prick fraudulent motherfucker. Do something! Come on! Prove it! Fuck faith! Earn it! Show me something real! I need it now. Not later. Now! Show me and I'll believe in you until the day I die. I swear. I'm calling on you. I'm calling on you!
[receives no response
: Fuck it. I'll do it myself.
: [after bitten by a wolf
] Maybe I'll turn into a wolfman now. Flannery
: Wait! That shit's not real, right? I mean you can't. Diaz
: Asswipe, what do you think? Really. Flannery
: I don't know, man, maybe like rabies or whatever. I didn't think the motherfucker was gonna grow claws and teeth and shit.
: A job at the end of the world. A salaried killer for a big petroleum company. I don't know why I did half the things I've done, but I know this is where I belong, surrounded by my own. Ex-cons, fugitives, drifters, assholes. Men unfit for mankind.
: [trying to calm him
] It's good. It's good that it hurts. Flannery
: It's good? Ottway
: It's good, yeah. Flannery
: Oh well then I'm fuckin' fabulous.
: My dad was not without love... but a cliched Irish motherfucker when he wanted to be. Drinker, brawler, all that stuff. Never shed a tear. Saw weakness everywhere. But he had this thing for poems... poetry. Reading them, quoting them. Probably thought it rounded him off, you know. His way of apologizing, I guess. And there was one that hung over the desk in his den. It was only when I was a lot older, I realized he had written it. It was untitled, four lines. I read it at his funeral. "Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I'll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day."