The Night of the Hunter (1955)
Rev. Harry Powell: [when he notices John staring at the words "love" and "hate" tattooed across his knuckles] Ah, little lad, you're staring at my fingers. Would you like me to tell you the little story of right-hand/left-hand? The story of good and evil? H-A-T-E! It was with this left hand that old brother Cain struck the blow that laid his brother low. L-O-V-E! You see these fingers, dear hearts? These fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man. The right hand, friends, the hand of love. Now watch, and I'll show you the story of life. Those fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warring and a-tugging, one agin t'other. Now watch 'em! Old brother left hand, left hand he's a fighting, and it looks like love's a goner. But wait a minute! Hot dog, love's a winning! Yessirree! It's love that's won, and old left hand hate is down for the count!
Rachel Cooper: John - ain't you going to say hello to your pa?
John Harper: He's not my pa!
Rachel Cooper: No, and he ain't no preacher neither!
Rev. Harry Powell: [singing] Leaning... leaning... safe and secure from all alarms. Leaning... leaning... leaning on the everlasting arms.
Rachel Cooper: I'm a strong tree with branches for many birds. I'm good for something in this world and I know it too.
Rachel Cooper: You know, when you're little, you have more endurance than God is ever to grant you again. Children are man at his strongest. They abide.
Rachel Cooper: They abide, and they endure.
Willa Harper: [Willa and Harry's wedding night] Harry?
Rev. Harry Powell: I was praying.
Willa Harper: I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought...
Rev. Harry Powell: You thought, Willa, that the moment you walked in that door, I'd start to paw at you in that abominable way that men are supposed to do on their wedding night. Ain't that right, now?
Willa Harper: No, no, no.
Rev. Harry Powell: I think it's time we made one thing perfectly clear, Willa. Marriage to me represents the blending of two spirits in the sight of Heaven. Get up, Willa.
Willa Harper: Harry, what...?
Rev. Harry Powell: Get up. Now go look at yourself yonder in that mirror. Do as I say. Look at yourself. What do you see, girl? You see the body of a woman, the temple of creation and motherhood. You see the flesh of Eve that man since Adam has profaned. That body was meant for begettin' children. It was not meant for the lust of men! Do you want more children, Willa?
Willa Harper: I... no.
Rev. Harry Powell: It's the business of this marriage to mind the two you have now. Not to beget more. Alright, you can get in bed now. Stop shivering.
Willa Harper: [praying] Help me to be clean, so I can be what Harry wants me to be.
Icey Spoon: [about the conjugal bed] When you've been married to a man for forty years you know all that don't amount to a hill of beans. I've been married to Walt that long and I swear in all that time I just lie there thinkin' about my canning.
Rev. Harry Powell: There are things you do hate, Lord. Perfume-smellin' things, lacy things, things with curly hair.
Willa Harper: I feel clean now. My whole body's just a-quiverin' with cleanness.
Ben Harper: What religion do you profess, preacher?
Rev. Harry Powell: The religion the Almighty and me worked out betwixt us.
Rachel Cooper: She'll be losing her mind to a tricky mouth and a full moon, and like as not, I'll be saddled with the consequences.
Rachel Cooper: [to Ruby, sobbing in her lap] Child... You were looking for love, Ruby, in the only foolish way you knew how.
Rachel Cooper: A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit. Neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Wherefore by their fruits, ye shall know them.
Icey Spoon: [about sex in marriage] A woman's a fool to marry for that. That's somethin' for a man. The Good Lord never meant for a decent woman to want that. Not really want it. It's all just a fake and a pipe dream.
Rev. Harry Powell: Not that you mind the killings! There's plenty of killings in your book, Lord...
Rev. Harry Powell: Lord, you sure knew what you were doing when you brung me to this very cell at this very time. A man with ten thousand dollars hid somewhere, and a widder in the makin'.
Rev. Harry Powell: Now just tell me. Where's the money hid?
Pearl Harper: But I swore I promised John I wouldn't tell.
Rev. Harry Powell: John doesn't matter! Can't I get that through your head, you poor, silly, disgusting little wretch.
Ben Harper: I got tired of seein' children roamin' the woodlands without food, children roamin' the highways in this here Depression, children sleepin' in old abandoned car bodies in junk heaps. And I promised myself that I'd never see the day when my young-uns had want.
[Pearl reaches to touch Powell's switchblade]
Rev. Harry Powell: No, no! Don't you touch that, little lamb. Don't touch my knife, that makes me mad. That makes me very, very mad.
Icey Spoon: A husband's one piece of store goods you never know 'til you get it home and take the paper off.
Rev. Harry Powell: Open that door, you spawn of the devil's own strumpet!
Pearl Harper: [singing] Once upon a time there was a pretty fly, he had a pretty wife, this pretty fly. But one day she flew away, flew away. She had two pretty children, but one night these two pretty children flew away, flew away, into the sky, into the moon.
Rachel Cooper: Lord save little children. The wind blows, and the rains are cold. Yet they abide.
Rachel Cooper: Get your state troopers out here. I got something trapped in my barn.
Rev. Harry Powell: Salvation is a last-minute business, boy.
Rev. Harry Powell: She'll not be back. I reckon I'm safe in promising you that.
Rev. Harry Powell: I can hear you whisperin' children, so I know you're down there. I can feel myself gettin' awful mad. I'm out of patience children. I'm coming to find you now.
Birdie Steptoe: Man of my age needs a little snort in the morning, heat the boilers.
Willa Harper: The boy's as stubborn and as mulish as a sheep.
towns children: Hing hang hung. See what the hangman done. Hing hang hing hang hing hang hung. See what the hangman done. Hung hang hing. See the robber swing. Hing hang hing hang hing hang hing hang. Hing hang hung. Now my song is done. Hing hang hung. See what the hangman done. Hung hang hing. See the robber swing. Hing hang hing hang hing hang hing hang. Hing hang hung.
Rev. Harry Powell: There's too many of them. I can't kill the world.