The Apostle (1997)
Sonny: I'm a genuine, Holy Ghost, Jesus-filled preachin' machine this mornin'!
Sonny: I may be on the devil's hit-list, but I'm on God's mailing list.
Sonny: I'd rather die today and go to heaven than live to be a hundred and go to hell.
Momma: That's my son, that is. I'll tell ya: ever since he was an itty bitty boy, sometimes he talks to the lord and sometimes he yells at the lord. Tonight, he just happens to be yellin' at him.
[Sonny sees his momma laying on the floor]
Sonny: Mama, I can't take you with me now, so get on back in your chair. Now i know you've died on me and gone on home to heavan so i hope you can still hear me. Now, you be good while i'm gone and i'll call you tonight okay? I can't take you with me now. Alright? Eh? Eh, Mama?
[as hes going out the door]
Sonny: Hug St. Peters neck for me would ya? Bye Mama, kiss an angel for me. Gotta hit the road Mama, i gotta work! Gotta go to work!
Brother Blackwell: [laughing] Now, Apostle, I know what you're thinking, but... All-All I can say is that whenever you've been on the radio, most all the white people think you're black. Now, most all the colored people know you ain't black; but they sho do like you're style of preachin'. So, what you see is what we got.
Sonny: Yeah. Yeah, well we got what the Lord sent... what the Lord sent.
Brother Blackwell: That's right.
Sonny: You're going to Heaven. I'm going to jail and you're going to Heaven.
Sonny: [talking to Joe about his dying mother] Tell her i built the prettiest little church this side of heavan, out in the wildwood. Tell her that.
Momma: Don't you let her have them kids now. Fight for those children, son, you hear me?
Horace: You feel alright?
Sonny: Oh yeah. I feel just about as good as I've ever felt, Rodney.
Horace: Well... my name's not Rodney.
Horace: Sonny, listen to me... I'm really and truly sorry about what's happened here, I really am.
Sonny: Well why don't you just but out. Before I take my, my boot here and tear you out another asshole... right where your nose is at.
Horace: Sonny, there's no call for that kind of talk, now...
Sonny: Well, we'll see about that...