Racetrack: Jack Kelly? Yeah, he was here, but he put an egg in his shoe and beat it.
Spot Conlon: Your honor, I object.
Judge Monahan: On what grounds?
Spot Conlon: On the grounds of Brooklyn, your honor.
Jack Kelly: There's a lot of people out there, and they ain't just gonna go away. They got voices now and they're goin' to be listened to. Putting them in jail is not going to stop them. That's the power of the press, Joe. So thanks for teaching me about it.
Seitz: Those kids put out a pretty good paper there, Chief.
Joseph Pulitzer: I ordered a printing ban on all strike matters. Now, who defied me? Whose press did you use to print this on? Whose?
Jack Kelly: Well, we only use the best, Joe. So, I just want to say... thanks again.
Joseph Pulitzer: Anyone who doesn't act in their own self interest is a fool.
David Jacobs: Then what does that make you?
Joseph Pulitzer: What?
Jack Kelly: Oh, this is my pal, Davey. The Walkin' Mouth.
David Jacobs: You talk about self-interest, but since the strike, your circulation's been down 70%. Everyday you're losing thousands of dollars just to beat us out of one lousy tenth of a cent. Why?
Jack Kelly: You see, it ain't about the money, Dave. It Joe gives in to nobodies like us, it means we got the power. And he can't do that, no matter what it costs.
Jack Kelly: [singing] For a dreamer, night's the only time of day.
David Jacobs: You're a liar! You lied about everything. You lied about your father being out west, 'cause he's not out west! You didn't even tell me your real name!
Jack Kelly: So? What you wanna do about it Dave?
David Jacobs: I don't understand you.
Jack Kelly: Oh, so let me spell it out for ya. You see, I ain't got nobody tucking me in at night, like you. It's just me, I gotta look out for myself, all right?
David Jacobs: You had the Newsies!
Jack Kelly: Oh, what'd being a Newsie ever give me but a dime a day and a few black eyes? You know, I can't afford to be a kid no more, Dave. For the first time in my life, I got money in my pockets. Real money. Money, you understand? I got more on the way and as soon as I collect, I'm gone, I'm away, all right?
David Jacobs: Well, that's good! That's good because we don't need you! We don't need you! All those words you said, those were mine.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, but you never had the guts to put them across yourself, did ya?
David Jacobs: I do now.
Crutchy: It's this brain of mine, it's always makin' mistakes... it's got a mind of its own.
Newsies: [singing] This is for kids shinin' shoes in the streets with no shoes on their feet everyday. This is for guys sweatin' blood in the shop while the bosses and cops look away. This is to even the score. This ain't just Newsies no more. This ain't just kids with some pies in the sky, this is do it or die, this is WAR! Once and for all, we'll be there to defend one another. Once and for all, every kid is a friend, every friend a brother. Five thousand fists in the sky, five thousands reasons to try. We're going over the wall. Better to die than to crawl. Either we stand or we fall, for once, once and for all!
David Jacobs: Why'd ya come back?
Jack Kelly: Well, I guess I can't be somethin' I ain't.
David Jacobs: What, a scab?
Jack Kelly: No, smart.
Jack Kelly: Extry, extry, read all about it! Ellis Island in flames!
David Jacobs: Hey, where's that story?
Jack Kelly: Page nine. Thousands Flee in Panic!
David Jacobs: "Trash Fire Next To Immigration Building Terrifies Seagulls"?
Jack Kelly: Terrified Flight from Inferno!
Spot Conlon: I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Saying Jacky-boy's Newsies is playing like they're going on strike.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, well we are.
David Jacobs: But we're not playing. We are going on strike.
Spot Conlon: Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kind of walking mouth?
Jack Kelly: Yeah, it's a mouth. A mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say.
David Jacobs: Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to Newsies all around the city.
Spot Conlon: Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?
David Jacobs: They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous Newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike then they join, and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean... well, you gotta!
Spot Conlon: You're right Jacky-boy, brains. But I got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?
Jack Kelly: Because I'm telling you, Spot.
Spot Conlon: That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me.
David Jacobs: My father taught us not to lie.
Jack Kelly: Well, mine told me not to starve; so we both have an education.
Jack Kelly: You only took 20 papes; why?
David Jacobs: It's a bad headline.
Jack Kelly: Well, dat's da foist thing ya gotta learn - headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes.
Jack Kelly: It ain't lyin'. It's just improvin' the truth a little.
Joseph Pulitzer: Know what I was doing at your age, boy? I was in a war. The Civil War.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, I heard of it. So, did ya win?
Joseph Pulitzer: People think war is about right or wrong and not power.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, I heard of that too. I don't just sell your papes, Joe. Sometime I read 'em
Jack Kelly: Santa Fe, my old friend/I can't spend my whole life hiding/You're the only light that's guiding me today/Will you keep a candle burning?/Will you help me find my way?/You're my chance to break free/And who knows when my next one will be?/Santa Fe, wait for me...
Spot Conlon: Where's my picture? Where does it mention me?
Jack Kelly: Stop thinking about yourself.
Mush: [pointing at the paper] Hey, look at ya, Jack, you look like a gentleman!
Jack Kelly: Will you please get your fingers off my face.
Spot Conlon: Where does it say my name? Where's my name?
Jack Kelly: Would ya quit thinkin' about yourself?
Racetrack: In 1899, the streets of New York City echoed with the voices of newsies, peddling the papers of Joseph Pulitzer, William Randalph Hearst, and other giants of the newspaper world. On every corner you saw them carrying the banner. Bringing you the news for a penny a pape. Poor orphans and runaways, the newsies were a ragged army without a leader, until one day all that changed.
Jack Kelly: One thing's for sure, if we don't sell papes, then nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates until they put the price back to where it was.
David Jacobs: You mean like a strike?
Jack Kelly: Yeah, like a strike!
David Jacobs: Are you out of your mind?
Jack Kelly: It's a good idea!
David Jacobs: Jack, I was only joking. We can't go on strike, we don't have a union.
Jack Kelly: But, if we go on strike, then we are a union, right?
David Jacobs: No! We're just a bunch of angry kids with no money.
Jack Kelly: We gotta get the word out to every newsie in the city! We need some of those...
David Jacobs: Ambassadors?
Jack Kelly: Yeah, yeah. Okay, you guys gotta go out and be, uh, am-bastards.
Racetrack: We ain't got five bucks! We don't even got five cents! Your Honor, how 'bout I roll ya for it, double or nuttin'?
Racetrack: You get your picture in the papes, you're famous. You're famous, you get anything you want. That's what's so great about New York.
Crutchy: Jack, when I walk, does it look like I'm fakin' it?
Jack Kelly: Nah, Crutchy, who says ye'r fakin' it?
Crutchy: I don't know... It's just there's so many fake crips on the streets today, a real crip ain't got a chance. I gotta find me a new sellin' spot where they ain't used to seein' me!
Mush: [singing] Try Bottle Alley or da harbor.
Racetrack: [singing] Try Central Park, it's guaranteed.
Jack Kelly: [singing] Try any banker, bum, or barber.
Skittery: [singing] They almost all knows how to read.
Jack Kelly: Got no brains. Why we starting to fight each other? Its just what the big shots wanna see. That we're street trash, street rats with no brains. No respect for nothin' including ourselfs. So heres how it is if we don't act together then we nothin'. if we don't stick together we nothin'. And if we can't even trust each other, then we nothin'. So whats it gunna be?
Jack Kelly: So this snooty mug says to me, 'You can't see Mr. Pulitzer. No one sees Mr. Pulitzer.' Real hoity-toity, you know the type?
Les Jacobs: Real hoity-toity.
Jack Kelly: So that's when I says to him, 'Listen, I ain't in the habit of transacting no business with office boys. Just tell him Jack Kelly's here to see him now!'
Les Jacobs: That's when he threw us out.
Jack Kelly: No, it's 19, Weasel. It's 19. But don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. I mean, Morris, he can't count to 20 with his shoes on.
Racetrack: You know that hot tip I told you about?
Jack Kelly: Yeah.
Racetrack: Nobody told the horse.
Jack Kelly: You shouldn't be callin' people lousy little shrimps, Oscar, unless you're referrin' to the family resemblance in your brother here.
Crutchy: But you can't let 'em beat you, right Jack? That's what you always said.
Jack Kelly: We was beat when we was born.
Jack Kelly: I'm just not used to havin' whether I stay or whether I go matter to anybody. I'm not sayin' that it should matter to you. I'm just sayin', um- but does it? Matter?
Racetrack: Look at this! "Baby Born with Two Heads"... must be from Brooklyn.
Bryan Denton: Sometimes all it takes is a voice, one voice that becomes a hundred, then a thousand, unless it's silenced.
Spot Conlon: It ain't what they say, its what we say, and nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em!
Racetrack: Deah me, what is dat unpleasant aroma? I fear da sewer may have backed up durin' da night.
David Jacobs: He called you Sullivan.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, well, my name's Kelly. Jack Kelly. You think I'm lyin'?
David Jacobs: You have a way of improving the truth.
Jack Kelly: So, what about Brooklyn? Who wants Brooklyn? C'mon, Spot Conlon's territory.
[the newsies look around, avoiding Jack's eye]
Jack Kelly: Whats'a matta, you scared of Brooklyn?
Boots: Hey, we ain't scared of Brooklyn.
Boots: Spot Conlon makes is a little noivous.
David Jacobs: Come on, keep running!
Jack Kelly: You shouldn't have done this, Dave. They could put you in jail!
David Jacobs: I don't care.
Jack Kelly: C'mere.
[pushes him against the wall]
Jack Kelly: What about your family? What happens to them if you go to jail? You don't know nothin' about jail. Now, thanks for what you done, but you get out of here.
David Jacobs: I don't understand.
Jack Kelly: I don't understand either, but just get outta here!
[pushes him away]
David Jacobs: No!
Jack Kelly: Go!
Newsies: We need a good assassination, we need an earthquake or a war...
Snipeshooter: How 'bout a crooked politician?
Newsies: Hey, stupid, that ain't news no more!
Kid Blink: They jacked up the price. You hear that? Ten cents a hundred! Ya know, it's bad enough that we gotta eat what we don't sell. Now they jacked up the price! Can you believe that?
Bryan Denton: Let me get that correct; that's Snyder, as in "snide"? Smile, sir!
[blinds Snyder with camera flash]
Kloppman: Skittery. Skittery. Skittery!
[hits Skittery on the foot]
Skittery: [jumps up] I didn't do it!
Kloppman: What do you mean you didn't do it? Get up. Get up! When you get up, you have to get up!
Racetrack: I say, that what Spot Conlon says, is what I say.
Newsies: [singing] When you got a million voices singing, who can hear a lousy whistle blow?
Skittery: This'll bust me, I'm barely makin' a livin' right now!
Dutchy: [finishing up painting a strike sign] So'd I spell it right, Kloppman?
Kloppman: [reads over the sign and nods] Very good, that's very good.
Dutchy: [proudly] Strike.
David Jacobs: [to Jack] You're a liar! You lied about everything. You lied about your father being out west, cause he's not out west! You didn't even tell me your real name!
David Jacobs: All those words you said, those were mine.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, but you never had the guts to put them across yourself, didja?
David Jacobs: I do now.
David Jacobs: From now on, we trust no one but the Newsies.
Racetrack: So what are we supposed to do to the bums, kiss em?
Jack Kelly: And so's your old lady! You tell Mr. Pulitzer he's gotta have an appointment with me!