Quotes

Charles Howard: You could be crippled for the rest of your life.

Red Pollard: I *was* crippled for the rest of my life. I got better. He made me better. Hell, you made me better.

Red Pollard: That's as much my horse as it is yours.

[George has awoken Red after losing a fight]

Red Pollard: Did I lose?

George Woolf: Oh no, you clobbered him.

Charles Howard: Son, what are you so mad at?

Riddle: [On Radio talking about a match race with Seabiscuit] It wouldn't be fair to us. It wouldn't be fair to them either. You wouldn't put Jack Dempsey in the ring with a middle-weight would you?

Red Pollard: Middle-weight? I'll kill him. I'll knock his goddamn block off. He's chicken, that's what it is. I mean, middle-weight?

California Doctor: If he breaks it again, it's possible he could never walk again.

Red Pollard: He just said it's possible. Well, hell, anything's possible. We've proved that already.

Charles Howard: It isn't just the leg. He could fall off. He could get trampled. He could...

Marcela Howard: He could die?

[She picks a little ball game out of his pocket]

Marcela Howard: You know I play with this all the time, too. No matter how hard I try, I can't get that damn ball to stay in the hole. Just let him ride. Just let him do it.

Tom Smith: You know, you don't throw a whole life away just 'cause he's banged up a little.

Tick Tock McGlaughlin: $100,000? Makes me wanna walk on all fours and put a saddle on my back.

Tick Tock McGlaughlin: No more match races for this little horse because frankly they're all out of matches. Who's he gonna race? Pegasus? I pity these horses.

Marcela Howard: Well he is fast.

Tom Smith: [looking down at the ground] Yeah... in every direction.

[Upon entering Samuel Riddle's stables]

Red Pollard: Jesus Christ. I want to be a horse.

Tom Smith: You're almost big enough.

[displaying Seabiscuit's jockey silks]

Marcela Howard: You don't think the "H" is too big?

Charles Howard: You seen the size of our jockey?

Red Pollard: [Last line, narrating] You know, everybody thinks we found this broken-down horse and fixed him, but we didn't. He fixed us. Every one of us. And I guess in a way we kinda fixed each other too.

[after losing a photo finish horse race]

Red Pollard: It's not my fault. Not this time.

Tom Smith: I told you, look out for Rosemont!

Red Pollard: I thought I had it!

Tom Smith: You stopped ridin' him!

Red Pollard: I couldn't see him!

Tom Smith: What the hell are you talking about? He was flyin' up your tail!

Red Pollard: Yeah, well, I can't...

Tom Smith: What?

Red Pollard: ...SEE out there!

Mrs. Pollard: You should be riding it. You knew the poem.

Mr. Pollard: Yeah, but he just looks so perfect out there, doesn't he?

Mrs. Pollard: Yeah.

Mr. Pollard: That's the poetry, Agnes. That's the poetry

Narrator: [First lines] They called it the car for every man. Henry Ford himself called it a car for the great multitude. It was functional, and simple, like your sewing machine, or your cast-iron stove. You could learn to drive it in less than a day. And you could get any color you wanted, so long as it was black. When Ford first conceived the Model-T, it took thirteen hours to assemble. Within five years he was turning out a vehicle every ninety seconds. Of course the real invention was the assembly line that built it. Pretty soon other businesses had borrowed the same technologies. Seamstresses became button sewers. Furniture makers became knob turners. It was the beginning and the end of imagination, all at the same time.

[in a restaurant, reacting to Riddle's refusal]

Charles Howard: Shit!

Marcela Howard: Charles!

Charles Howard: [quietly] Shit!

Marcela Howard: Yeah, I know what you mean.

Charles Howard: [speaking to the newsmen after the win at Santa Anita] Well, I just think this horse has a lot of heart. He may have been down, but he wasn't out. He may have lost a few, but he didn't let it get to him. I think I learned a lick or two from this little guy. Oh, and by the way, he doesn't know he's little. He thinks he's the biggest horse out there.