Hardy: So, what are you gonna do?
Osbourne: I think I need a beer.
Hardy: Un cerveza por senorita!
Castro: Here you go, colonel.
Styles: Osbourne's the closest thing we have to an in-house investigator.
Hardy: And here you are going out of house... now, how does that make you feel, Jules?
Osbourne: Hostile and uncooperative, sir.
Dunbar: You think you know everything? You haven't even scratched the surface.
Hardy: I know enough to know that you've got two choices. You can either sign a confession and spend the rest of your life in a cell. Or you can tell us to fuck off, and you'll be hanged. Now, am I scratching... *your* surface yet?
Hardy: Three things, first you don't have a choice, second I've never taken a bribe in my life, and third... I'm still a little drunk from earlier so if I skip over the witty banter and move straight on to coming on to you I hope you don't take offense.
Sgt. Nathan West: Those of you I find lacking will quit. And those of you who refuse to quit will have a training accident. This base suffers three training accidents a year. Unfortunate accidents that I will not hesitate to repeat if you cross me!
Hardy: Osbourne, you call me "sir" one more time I swear to God I'm gonna scream.
Osbourne: I questioned him for two hours; he didn't make a sound.
Hardy: You try pokin' him with a stick?
Osbourne: [narration] The French tried to build a canal here before the Americans. At the height of their effort, 500 workers were dyin' a week from malaria and yellow fever. They couldn't come up with cemetary space fast enough. Not to mention the morale problem all those crosses would have made. So they bought shiploads of vinegar in Cuba, and in each barrel, they sealed one corpse, and then they sold them as medical cadavers all over Europe. And for a while, that was their principal source of profit. You see, this place has always had a special way of dealin' with profit and death.
Hardy: And I wasn't looking at your ass.
Osbourne: [gives Hardy a skeptical look]
Hardy: Maybe a little bit, but it was strictly in a professional way.
Vilmer: Guess I'm on the same transport as Pike. Hey Julie-bird, you bitch? Why don't you go and get me something to eat? I'm starving. Christ...
Hardy: What did you say?
Vilmer: I didn't mean to call her a bitch. I...
Hardy: No no no no, before. What did you say?
Vilmer: What, that me and Pike are going on a transport plane going to DC together?
Hardy: You mean Dunbar.
Vilmer: [sigh] No. Pike... The one that they just hauled out of here. The guy that they brought in with Kendall on the chopper.
Osbourne: That was Dunbar.
Vilmer: [complacent] No, that's not right.
Hardy: What do you mean? Why not?
Vilmer: Tom, Ray Dunbar is black.
[flashback to Sgt. West's browbeating of Pike with Dunbar in his place]
Hardy: [raining, questioning Styles about the case he's been brought in on] Any spooks involved... CIA... FBI?
Styles: [covering his unease] Not really.
Hardy: [confused] What's that mean?
Styles: [breaks] There were some guys... some guys down here that were way out on the hairy edge, doing covert stuff. Well, they went renegade... starting their own missions.
Hardy: [unconvinced, trying to understand situation] What happened to them?
Styles: Well, they disappeared into drug land... and with their unique talents they cut one hell of slice through the competition. Now West trained some of these guys... and he hated them for what they did... and they hated him! That's what this could be about.
Hardy: What's this got to do with anything?
Styles: Something... maybe nothing... but that note that Dunbar wrote had an eight on it... and that's what these guys called themselves - Section 8.
Sgt. Nathan West: Pike, surrender your sidearm for inspection.
[Pike reaches to give West his gun]
Sgt. Nathan West: What the fuck are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?
Pike: Sargent, you told me to...
Sgt. Nathan West: Are you talking? Did you speak to me? Who the fuck told you to speak? A ranger never relinquishes his weapon. If George S. mother fucking Patton rises from his holy grave, and asks you for your weapon, you will not surrender your weapon.
Sgt. Nathan West: Now son, there are people in this world that will kill you for no god damn reason other than something passing through their mind. I hail from Biloxi, Mississippi where vanilla mother fuckers like that used to hang us from trees by our necks on a whim. Now, does that sound like the kind of fucking place you want to god damn grow up?
Pike: Sargent. No, Sargent.
Sgt. Nathan West: [chocking Pike] Are you saying something negative about the Great state of Mississippi?
Sgt. Nathan West: I just transferred to Arlington Cemetery.
Hardy: Keep talking shit, and you're liable to make roll call.
Pike: All we got to do is tell the story right.
Hardy: [looks at Kendall's record] Levi? Who names their kid Levi?
Osbourne: General Jonathan Kendall. Of the Joint Chiefs.
Styles: If you lose enough in life what you are is a loser.
Sgt. Nathan West: Tom, why did this woman have a weapon pointed at your head?
Hardy: This is Captain Osbourne, and she has had a long day.
Sgt. Nathan West: As some of you may have heard, there is a hurricane warning tonight. Well, Rangers do not wait on good weather. Rangers do not wait for bright sun shiny days. Oh, no. Rangers are trained to operate in the worst possible conditions, and takes those conditions and turns them against their enemies. You each have one rifle, one side arm, and one white phosphorous grenade. This is a live E&E, so please keep those weapons safetied, so you are not to shoot off your nonexistent dicks.
Styles: This kid we have in interrogation requested a Ranger, someone he'd never met. That's you.
Hardy: Well, Jesus, Bill, he could've requested a sailboat, it doesn't mean you have to give it to him!
Osbourne: [abruptly slugs Vilmer in the face with a phone book]
Hardy: Whoa-ho! How about them Yankees?
Osbourne: Now see, what I just did is considered illegal. Which means I'll be discharged from the army. Which means no law school. So I really have nothing to lose...
Styles: [to Hardy] You never met a bribe you didn't like.
Sgt. Nathan West: I do not care that you are triple volunteers. I do not care that you think you are hard. And I especially don't give a rat's fuck what 4-star general's dick you sucked to get the privilege of being able to stand before me today.
Sgt. Nathan West: What is your weapon... your weapon, man, your weapon? What keeps you alive and makes the other guy die? What- is- your- weapon? It's your brain Mr Pike, your noggin your noodle, your smarts, your gray matter, your poise under fire, your wits, when all about you are losing theirs. I think you came to this party unarmed Mr Pike.