* How tall are you private?.....5'9?, I didnt know they stacked -blam!- that high!
* Are you quitting on me? Well, are you? Then quit, you slimy -blam!- walrus-looking piece of -blam!-. Get the -blam!- off of my obstacle. Get the -blam!- down off of my obstacle. Now. Move it. I'm going to rip your balls off, so you cannot contaminate the rest of the world. I will motivate you, Private Pyle, if it short-dicks every cannibal on the Congo.
* Today... is Christmas! There will be a magic show at zero-nine-thirty! Chaplain Charlie will tell you about how the free world will conquer Communism with the aid of God, and a few Marines! God has a hard-on for Marines, because we kill everything we see! He plays His games, we play ours! To show our appreciation for so much power, we keep Heaven packed with fresh souls! God was here before the Marine Corps! So you can give your heart to Jesus, but your ass belongs to the Corps! Do you ladies understand?
* Your ass looks like 150 pounds of chewed bubble gum Pyle did you know that?
* You're so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece.
* Today, you people are no longer maggots. Today you are Marines. You're part of a brotherhood.
* If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day, you are pukes! You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human -blam!- beings! You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian -blam!-! Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here! I do not look down on -blam!-s, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless! And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps! Do you maggots understand that?!
* Oh that's right, Private Pyle, don't make any -blam!- effort to get to the top of the -blam!- obstacle. If God would have wanted you up there He would have miracled your ass up there by now, wouldn't He?
* [Pyle is gingerly climbing a high obstacle]
Whatever you do, Private Pyle, DON'T fall down! That would break my -blam!- heart!
* Were you born a fat, slimy, scumbag puke piece a' -blam!- Private Pyle, or did you have to work on it?
* I'll bet you're the kind of guy that would -blam!- a person in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I'll be watching you.
* The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle. It is your killer instinct which must be harnessed if you expect to survive in combat. Your rifle is only a tool. It is a hard heart that kills. If your killer instincts are not clean and strong you will hesitate at the moment of truth. You will not kill. You will become dead Marines. And then you will be in a world of -blam!-, because Marines are not allowed to die without permission! Do you maggots understand?
* Bull-blam!-! It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress. I think you've been cheated.
* Get up here fat boy! Quickly! Move it on, Pyle, move it on! You climb obstacles like old people -blam!-!
* Did your parents have any children that lived? Well, I bet they regret that.
* Tonight, you men will sleep with your rifles. You will give your rifle a girl's name because this is the only -blam!- you people are going to get. Your days of finger-banging ol' Mary Jane Rottencrotch through her perty pink panties are over! You're married to this piece, this weapon of iron and wood. And you will be faithful.
* Holy dog -blam!-. Texas? Only steers and -blam!-s come from Texas, Private Cowboy. And you don't look much like a steer to me so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks? Are you a peter puffer?
* Bull-blam!-, I bet you can suck a golf ball through a garden hose!
* Pick 'em up and set 'em down Pyle!
* Do you feel dizzy? Do you feel faint! Jesus H. Christ! I think you've got a hard-on!
* I bet if there was some -blam!- up there, you'd climb faster!
[b]Gunnery Sergeant Hartman:[/b] What's your name, scumbag?
[b]Private Snowball:[/b] Sir, Private Brown, sir!
[b]Gunnery Sergeant Hartman:[/b] Bull-blam!-! From now on your name is Private Snowball. Do you like your new name?
[b]Private Snowball:[/b] Sir, yes, sir!
[b]Gunnery Sergeant Hartman:[/b] Well I'll tell you one thing you won't like, Private Snowball, they don't serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall.