- 1+ 31- 2
I'll Be Watching YouGunnery Sergeant Hartman: I bet you're the kind of guy that would f**k a person in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I'll be watching you.
- 2+ 7- 0
Move and Work!Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Oh that's right, Private Pyle, don't make any f**king effort to get to the top of the f**king obstacle. If God would have wanted you up there he would have miracled your ass up there by now, wouldn't he?
- 3+ 12- 2
I'm AlivePrivate Joker: My thoughts drift back to erect nipple wet dreams about Mary Jane Rottencrotch and the Great Homecoming F**k Fantasy. I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece and short. I'm in a world of s**t... yes. But I am alive. And I am not afraid.
- 4+ 9- 1
Time to Clean the HeadGunnery Sergeant Hartman: As soon as your bunks are done, I want you two turds to clean the head.
Joker and Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: I want that head so sanitary and squared-away that the Virgin Mary herself would be proud to go in and take a dump.
- 5+ 10- 2
Private Joker: Are those... live rounds?
Private Gomer Pyle: Seven-six-two millimeter. Full metal jacket.
- 6+ 11- 3
Learned it From the MarinesGunnery Sergeant Hartman: Do any of you people know where these individuals learned how to shoot?... Private Joker.
Private Joker: Sir. In the Marines, Sir.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: In the Marines. Outstanding. Those individuals showed what one motivated Marine and his rifle can do. And before you ladies leave my Island, you will all be able to do the same thing.
- 7+ 8- 2
"Poontang" is the Word!vAnimal Mother: Freedom?
Animal Mother: You'd better flush out your head, new guy. This isn't about freedom; this is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is "poontang".
- 8+ 5- 0
I Want to Kill the VietnamesePrivate Joker: I wanted to see exotic Vietnam... the crown jewel of Southeast Asia. I wanted to meet interesting and stimulating people of an ancient culture... and kill them. I wanted to be the first kid on my block to get a confirmed kill!
- 9+ 5- 2
Rather Be AliveThan FreePrivate Eightball: Personally, I think, uh... they don't really want to be involved in this war. You know, I mean... they sort of took away our freedom and gave it to the, to the g**kers, you know. But they don't want it. They'd rather be alive than free, I guess. Poor dumb bastards.
- 10+ 3- 0
Why Are You FatvGunnery Sergeant Hartman: Were you born a fat, slimy, scumbag puke piece o' s**t, Private Pyle, or did you have to work on it?
- 11+ 4- 2
What's the Matter With Him?Private Cowboy: Tough break for Hand Job. He was all set to get shipped out on a medical.
Private Joker: What was the matter with him?
Private Cowboy: He was jerkin' off ten times a day.
Private Eightball: No s**t. At least ten times a day.
Private Cowboy: Last week he was sent down to Da Nang to see the Navy head shrinker, and the crazy f**ker starts jerking off in the waiting room. Instant Section Eight. He was just waiting for his papers to clear division.
- 12+ 3- 1
It Is Better to Be AlivePrivate Joker: The dead know only one thing: it is better to be alive.
- 13+ 3- 1
What's Wrong With You?vGunnery Sergeant Hartman: What is your major malfunction, numbnuts? Didn't Mommy and Daddy show you enough attention when you were a child?
- 14+ 2- 1
Men Without FearPrivate Joker: Graduation is only a few days away, and the recruits of Platoon 3092 are salty. They are ready to eat their own guts and ask for seconds. The drill instructors are proud to see that we are growing beyond their control. The Marine Corps does not want robots. The Marine Corps wants killers. The Marine Corps wants to build indestructible men, men without fear.
- 15+ 2- 1
Believe it or NotPrivate Eightball: Believe it or not, but under fire, Animal Mother can be a wonderful human being. All he needs is somebody throwing grenades at him 'til the end of his life.
- 16+ 4- 4
Smell of NapalmvKilgore: Smell that? You smell that?
Kilgore: Napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that.
Kilgore: I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed, for 12 hours. When it was all over, I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body. The smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole hill. Smelled like
Kilgore: victory. Someday this war's gonna end...