Angela: Why are you never on my side, Robbie?
Robbie: I'm always on your side when you're not being a cunt!
Mildred Hayes: There will be no more "cunts" in this house. You got that, mister?
Robbie: What? Are you moving out?
Mildred Hayes: Hey fuckhead!
Desk Sergeant: Don't say what, Dixon. When she comes in calling you a "fuckhead."
Mildred Hayes: So how's it all going in the nigger- torturing business, Dixon?
Dixon: It's 'Persons of color'-torturing business, these days, if you want to know. And I didn't torture nobody.
Mildred Hayes: This didn't put an end to shit, you fucking retard; this is just the fucking start. Why don't you put that on your Good Morning Missouri fucking wake up broadcast, bitch?
Willoughby: Jason, Willoughby here. I'm dead now, sorry about that. There's something I wanted to say to you that I never really said when I was alive. I think you've got the makings of being a really good cop, Jason, and you know why? Because, deep down, you're a decent man. I know you don't think I think that, but I do, dipshit. I do think you're too angry though, and I know it's all since your dad died and you had to go look after your mom and all, but as long as you hold on to so much hate, then I don't think you're ever going to become, what I know you want to become - a detective. 'Cause you know what you need to become a detective? And I know you're gonna wince when I say this, but what you need to become a detective is love.
Mildred Hayes: Fuck 'em.
[Mildred starts throwing Molatov cocktails at the police station, unaware that Dixon is inside it reading Willoughby's letter]
Willoughby: Because through love comes calm, and through calm comes thought. And you need thought to detect stuff sometimes, Jason. It's kinda all you need. You don't even need a gun. And you definitely don't need hate. Hate never solved nothing, but calm did. And thought did. Try it. Try it just for a change. No one'll think you're gay. And if they do, arrest 'em for homophobia! Won't they be surprised! Good luck to you, Jason. You're a decent man, and yeah you've had a run of bad luck, but things are gonna change for you. I can feel it.
Mildred Hayes: Y'know what I was thinking about today? I was thinking 'bout those street gangs they had down in Los Angeles, those Crips and those Bloods? I was thinking about that buncha new laws they came up with, in the 1980's I think it was, to combat those street-gangs, those Crips and those Bloods. And, if I remember rightly, the gist of what those new laws were saying was if you join one of these gangs, and you're running with 'em, and down the block one night, unbeknownst to you, one of your fellow Crips, or your fellow Bloods, shoot up a place, or stab a guy, well then, even though you didn't know nothing about it, and even though you may've just been standing on a streetcorner minding your own business, what these new laws said was you're still culpable. You're still culpable, by the very act of joining those Crips, or those Bloods, in the first place. Which got me thinking, Father, that whole type of situation is kinda like your Church boys, ain't it? You've got your colors, you've got your clubhouse, you're, for want of a better word, a gang. And if you're upstairs smoking a pipe and reading a bible while one of your fellow gang members is downstairs fucking an altar boy then, Father, just like those Crips, and just like those Bloods, you're culpable. Cos you joined the gang, man. And I don't care if you never did shit or you never saw shit or you never heard shit. You joined the gang. You're culpable. And when a person is culpable to altar-boy-fucking, or any kinda boy-fucking, I know you guys didn't really narrow that down, then they kinda forfeit the right to come into my house and say anything about me, or my life, or my daughter, or my billboards. So, why don't you just finish your tea there, Father, and get the fuck outta my kitchen.
Willoughby: My Darling Anne, There's a longer letter in the dresser drawer I've been writing for the last week or so, that one covers us, and my memories of us, and how much I've always loved you. This one just covers tonight, and more importantly, today. Tonight I have gone out to the horses to end it. I cannot say sorry for the act itself, although I know for a short time you will be angry at me, or even hate me for it. Please don't. This is not a case of, I came in this world alone and I'm goin' out of it alone, or anything dumb like that. I did not come in this world alone, my mom was there. And I am not goin' out of it alone, 'cause you were there, drunk on the couch, making Oscar Wilde cock jokes. No, this is a case, in some senses, of bravery. Not the bravery of facing a bullet down. The next few months of pain would be far harder than that small flash. No, it's the bravery of weighing up the next few months of still being with you, still waking up with you, of playing with the kids... Against the next few months of seeing in your eyes how much my pain is killing you. How my weakened body, as it ebbs away, and you tend to it, are your final and lasting memories of me. I won't have that. Your final memories of me will be us at the riverside, and that dumb fishing game, which I think they cheated at. And me inside of you, and you on top of me... And barely a fleeting thought, of the darkness yet to come. That was the best Anne. A whooole day of not thinking about it. Dwell on this day baby, 'cause it was the best day of my life. Kiss the girls for me, and know that I've always loved you... And maybe I'll see ya again if there's another place, and if there ain't... Well, it's been heaven knowing you. Your Boy, Bill
Willoughby: Dear Mildred, Dead Man Willoughby here. Firstly, I wanted to apologize for dyin' without catchin' your daughter's killer. It's a source of great pain to me and it would break my heart to think you thought I didn't care. 'Cause I did care. There are just some cases, where you never catch a break. Then 5 years down the line, some guy hears some other guy braggin' about it in a barroom or a jail cell. The whole thing is wrapped up through sheer stupidity. I hope that might be true for Angela, I really do. Second, I got to admit Mildred, the billboards were a great fucking idea. They were like a chess move. And although they had absolutely nothing to do with my dyin'... I will assume almost everyone in town will assume that they did. Which is why, for Willoughby's counter-move, I decided to pay the next month's rent on 'em. I thought it'd be funny, you having to defend them a whooole 'nother month after they've stuck me in the ground. The joke is on you Mildred. Ha ha, and I hope they do not kill you. So good luck with all that, and good luck with everything else too. I hope and I pray that you get him.
Mildred Hayes: What's the law on what ya can and can't say on a billboard? I assume it's ya can't say nothing defamatory, and ya can't say, 'Fuck' 'Piss' or 'Cunt'. That right?
Red Welby: Or... Anus.
Mildred Hayes: Well I think I'll be alright then.
Mildred Hayes: Hey, Dixon?
Mildred Hayes: I need to tell you something... It was me that burned down the police station.
Dixon: Well, who the hell else would it have been?
Willoughby: I'd do anything to catch the guy who did it, Mrs. Hayes, but when the DNA don't match no one who's ever been arrested, and when the DNA don't match any other crime nationwide, and there wasn't a single eyewitness from the time she left your house to the time we found her, well... right now there ain't too much more we could do.
Mildred Hayes: You could pull blood from every man and boy in this town over the age of 8.
Willoughby: There's civil rights laws prevents that, Mrs. Hayes, and what if he was just passing through town?
Mildred Hayes: Pull blood from every man in the country.
Willoughby: And what if he was just passing through the country?
Mildred Hayes: If it was me, I'd start up a database, every male baby was born, stick 'em on it, and as soon as he done something wrong, cross reference it, make 100% certain it was a correct match, then kill him.
Willoughby: Yeah well, there's definitely civil rights laws that prevents that.
Charlie: All this anger, man, it just begets greater anger.
Mildred Hayes: [while platting flowers at the billboards, Mildred is startled by a wild deer that has crossed an open field and is now standing near her] Hey baby... Yup, still no arrests. How come I wonder? 'Cause there ain't no God and the whole world's empty, and it doesn't matter what we do to each other? I hope not. How come you came up here out of nowhere lookin' so pretty? You ain't trynta make me believe in reincarnation or somethin' are ya? 'Cause you're pretty but you ain't her... She got killed. Now she's dead forever. I do thank you for comin' though. If I had some food I'd give it to ya. All I got is some Doritos, 'n' they might kill ya, they're kinda pointy... Then where would we be?
Charlie: [tearfully] Those billboards aren't gonna bring her back, Mildred.
Mildred Hayes: Neither is fucking nineteen-year olds, Charlie.
Dixon: We've had two official complaints about the billboards, so, actually...
Willoughby: From who?
Dixon: A lady with a funny eye... and a fat dentist.
Willoughby: Give me the file on the Angela Hayes case.
Willoughby: A lady with a funny fucking eye?... Jesus Christ.
Dixon: What are you, an idiot?
Desk Sergeant: Don't call me an idiot, Dixon!
Dixon: I didn't call you an idiot, I asked if you was an idiot... That was a question.
Mildred Hayes: Dixon?
Mildred Hayes: Are you sure about this?
Dixon: 'Bout killing this guy? Not really. You?
Mildred Hayes: Not really. I guess we can decide along the way.
Willoughby: [from trailer] You didn't happen to drill a *little* hole in the dentist today, did you?
Mildred Hayes: [mouth numb] Of course not.
Mildred Hayes: [Upon discovering Denise got arrested] Rat bastards.
[Mildred then enters the police station house]
Mildred Hayes: Hey fuckhead!
Desk Sergeant: Don't say "what", Dixon, when she comes in calling you a fuckhead, and don't you come in here...
Mildred Hayes: Shut up!
Mildred Hayes: [to Dixon] You, get over here.
Dixon: No! You, get over here.
Mildred Hayes: Alright.
Desk Sergeant: What? Don't, Dixon!
Dixon: What? I'm...
Desk Sergeant: You do not allow a member of the public to call you a fuckhead in the station house!
Dixon: That's what I'm doing, I'm taking care of it in my own way, actually. Now get out of my ass! Mrs. Hayes, have a seat! What is it I can do for you today?
Mildred Hayes: Where's Denise Watson?
Dixon: Denise Watson's in the clank.
Mildred Hayes: On what charge?
Mildred Hayes: Of what?
Dixon: Two marijuana cigarettes. Big ones.
Mildred Hayes: When's the bail hearing?
Dixon: I asked the judge not to give her bail on account of her previous marijuana violations and the judge said sure.
Mildred Hayes: You fucking prick!
Dixon: You do not call an officer of the law a fucking prick in his own station-house, Mrs. Hayes. Or anywhere, actually.
Mildred Hayes: What's with the new attitude, Dixon? Your momma been coaching ya?
Dixon: No. My momma didn't do that.
Dixon: [as Mildred leaves the police station house] Take 'em down, you hear me?
Desk Sergeant: You did good, Dixon.
Dixon: Yeah, I know I did.
Dixon: What the hell is this?... Hey, you. What the fuck is this?
Jerome: What the fuck is what?
Dixon: This! This
[pointing at the billboard]
Jerome: Advertising, I guess.
Dixon: Advertising what?
Jerome: Something obscure?
Dixon: I'll say. Yeah.
Jerome: Don't I know your face from some place?
Dixon: I don't know, do you?
Jerome: Yeah. Yeah, I do
[spits on the ground]
Dixon: I could arrest you right now...
Jerome: For what?
Dixon: For emptying your bucket... That's being bad against the environment laws.
Jerome: Well, before you do that, Officer Dixon, how about you have a look at that first billboard over there? And then we can have ourself a conversation about the motherfucking environment... How about that?
Willoughby: You think I care about dentists?... I don't care about dentists... Nobody cares about dentists.
Willoughby: If you got rid of every cop with vaguely racist leanings, then you'd have three cops left, and all o' them are gonna hate the fags, so what are ya gonna do, y'know?
Willoughby: Dixon, you goddamn asshole. I'm in the middle of my goddamn Easter dinner... Sorry, kids.
James: You know, I didn't have to come and hold your ladder.
Mildred Hayes: You got something to say to me?
Charlie: If I'd known, we could have double dated.
Mildred Hayes: Doesn't shit girl have a curfew week nights?
Charlie: No, no, in fact I was actually gonna take her to the circus later, but there's no need now. Does he juggle ?
Mildred Hayes: Look, I'm having one dinner with the guy cause he did me a favour, okay?
Charlie: You don't have to explain yourself to me cause you're having dinner with a midget, Mildred.
Mildred Hayes: I'm not explaining myself to you.
Charlie: You kinda are. Look, I didn't come over here to break your balls. You can date as many midgets as you want.
Dixon: What's the matter with you, saying that goddamn stuff on TV?... My momma watches that station.
Mildred Hayes: She doesn't know about the torturing?
Dixon: No. She's against that kinda thing.
Willoughby: Who's against what?
Dixon: My momma is against persons-of-color-torturing. She said nigger-torturing. I said, You can't say nigger-torturing no more. You gotta say persons-of-color-torturing. Isn't that right, Chief?
[we see a boy throw a can at Mildred's car. Mildred, agitated by this, goes out of her car to confront him and a girl who was with him]
Robbie: [trying to stop Mildred] Don't, don't!
Mildred Hayes: [asking the boy and the girl] Hey there! You know who threw that can?
Boy: What can?
[Mildred kicks the boy in the crotch]
Mildred Hayes: How about you, sweetheart? You know who threw that can?
Girl: Uh, no, I didn't really see...
[before the girl could complete her answer, Mildred kicks her in the crotch as well]
Robbie: Thank you, Mom.
Mildred Hayes: Did you really tell him Anger begets greater anger?
Penelope: Oh, yes! I did! I didn't make it up myself though. I can't claim that! No, I read it on a bookmark. Which was in a book I was reading. About polio.
Penelope: No, which is the one with the horses? Polio? Polo?
Mildred Hayes: [from trailer]
[live on the news]
Mildred Hayes: My daughter Angela was murdered 7 months ago, it seems to me the police department is too busy torturing black folk to solve actual crimes.
[Mildred is angry that the billboards were set on fire. Here we see her wearing a pair of bunny slippers]
Mildred Hayes: [crying] I'll crucify the motherfuckers!
Mildred Hayes: What are you gonna do, Mildred? You're gonna crucify 'em?
Mildred Hayes: [rabbit voice] Yeah, I'ma crucify 'em.
Mildred Hayes: Who are you gonna crucify? The motherfuckers?
Mildred Hayes: [rabbit voice] Yeah, I'm gonna crucify the motherfuckers.
Mildred Hayes: Woah, I guess those motherfuckers better watch out, alright? Fucking A.
Geoffrey: I just wanted to say, there's a lot of good friends of Bill Willoughby in this town, Ms. Hayes...
[before Geoffrey could complete his sentence, Mildred, agitated, grabs the dentist drill Geoffrey is holding and drills a hole into his right thumbnail]
Geoffrey: Goddamn it!
Mildred Hayes: Then why don't you tell those good friends of Bill Willoughby to tell him to go do his fucking job, fat boy.
[Mildred then spits at Geoffrey before the next scene starts]
Willoughby: Hey there Mildred! You didn't happen to pay a visit to the dentist today, did you?
Mildred Hayes: No.
Mildred Hayes: I said "no".
Willoughby: Oh, so it wasn't you who drilled a little hole in one of big fat Geoffrey's big fat thumbnails, no?
Mildred Hayes: Of course not.
Mildred Hayes: I said, "Of course not".
Denise: You drilled a hole in the dentist?
Mildred Hayes: Denise, no, I didn't.
Willoughby: Well, I thought it was kind of funny myself, but he wants to press charges, so we're gonna have to bring you in, I'm afraid.
Mildred Hayes: Wow. When you can't trust the lawyers and the advertising men, what the hell's America coming to, huh?
Dixon: [after throwing Red out of the window] See, Red, I got issues with white folks too!
Willoughby: Oscar Wilde...
[Smiles in memories, shoots himself in the head]
Willoughby: [from trailer] I don't think those billboards is very fair.
Mildred Hayes: The time it took you to get out here whining like a bitch, Willoughby, some other poor girl's probably out there being butchered.
Willoughby: You really wanna fuck with the Ebbing Police Department, Red? Do you?
Red Welby: I guess.
Anne: I just came to give you the letter. Now, my two little girls are out in the car, so I'd better not stay and chat. I'm not quite sure what we're going to do for the rest of the day. It's hard to know what to do the day your husband kills himself. It's hard to know what to do.
Charlie: Yeah, I'm such a shitty dad, you're such a great mom. Alright. So how come, a week before she dies, Angela asks if she can come and live with me at my place? Cause she couldn't stand the two of you bitching at eachtother, fighting each other? And I said no, stay at home, your mom loves you. Now I wish I hadn't. Cause if hadn't, she'd still fucking be here.
Mildred Hayes: I don't believe you!
Charlie: Then don't believe me. Ask fruit loop boy.
Mildred Hayes: Is that true?
Robbie: I don't know, mom.
Mildred Hayes: Yeah, you do.
Mildred Hayes: You can ask me all the questions you want if you take me down and arrest me.
Abercrombie: I'm not gonna arrest you, Mrs. Hayes. I got nothing to arrest you for.
Mildred Hayes: Not yet you ain't...
Father Montgomery: [to Mildred] You know, if you hadn't stopped coming to church, you'd have a little more understanding of people's feelings.
Mildred Hayes: [walking into his office] You Red Welby?
Red Welby: Yes, ma'am. How may I help you?
Mildred Hayes: I heard there's three billboards out on Drinkwater Road. You're in charge of renting them out, that right?
Red Welby: I didn't know we had any billboards out on Drinkwater. Where is Drinkwater Road?
Mildred Hayes: It's a road out past the Sizemore turn-off. Nobody uses it since the freeway got put in.
Red Welby: You are right. Got three billboards out there. Nobody's put nothing up out there since 1986. That was 'Huggies'.
Mildred Hayes: How much to rent out all three of 'em the year?
Red Welby: A year? You wanna pay for three billboards on a road no-one goes down unless they got lost or they're retards, for a year?
Mildred Hayes: Quick, ain't ya, Welby?
Red Welby: Well, since what I say goes these days down at the Ebbing Advertising Desk, I'm gonna strike you a real good deal on those billboards. Now, what was it you said your name was, Mrs?
Mildred Hayes: What's the law on what you can and cannot say on a billboard? I assume it's ya can't say nothing defamatory, and ya can't say, 'Fuck' 'Piss' or 'Cunt'. That right?
Red Welby: Uh... Or... anus.
Mildred Hayes: Well, I think I'll be alright then. Here's 5,000 for the first month.
Mildred Hayes: Fuck it.
[throws a molotov cocktail at the police station]