First Lt Benjamin Keating: So how do we do our jobs and stay safe? We need to keep a good relationship with the locals. Respect keeps us safe.

First Lt Benjamin Keating: So how do we do our jobs and stay safe? We need to keep a good relationship with the locals. Respect keeps us safe.
Boss: [Over the phone] I'm not gonna yell at you. Am I yelling? No… Because you're not someone even worthy of that. Because you didn't even have the fucking courtesy to talk to me about whatever the fuck fantasy you decided to spew all over me… So, let me ask, do you want to keep this job?
Jane: Yeah.
Boss: Okay… Then send me a fucking apology.
Marianne Beausejour: Je t'aime, Mon Québécois.
"Hoot": When I go home people'll ask me, "Hey Hoot, why do you do it man? What, you some kinda war junkie?" You know what I'll say? I won't say a goddamn word. Why? They won't understand. They won't understand why we do it. They won't understand that it's about the men next to you, and that's it. That's all it is.
Kevin: Man, glass tables are acting weird tonight.
Les Grossman: First, take a big step back… and literally, FUCK YOUR OWN FACE! I don't know what kind of pan-pacific bullshit power play you're trying to pull here, but Asia Jack is my territory. So whatever you're thinking, you'd better think again! Otherwise I'm gonna have to head down there and I will rain down an un-Godly fucking firestorm upon you! You're gonna have to call the fucking United Nations and get a fucking binding resolution to keep me from fucking destroying you. I'm talking scorched earth, motherfucker! I will massacre you! I WILL FUCK YOU UP!
Jail Binger:
I don’t like soldier boys.
Highway:
Say what?
Jail Binger:
If you wanna pop that puppy’s can you don’t have to grease him so hard, jarhead.
Highway:
Well, it sounds like you’re a man of experience.
Jail Binger:
What the hell’s that supposed to mean, grunge shit.
Highway:
It means: Be advised. I’m mean, nasty and tired. I eat concertina wire and piss napalm and I can put a round in a flea’s ass at 200 meters. So why don’t you go hump somebody else’s leg, mutt face, before I push yours in.
Jail Binger:
Ain’t gonna be so smart with your balls stuffed in your mouth, jarhead!
Highway:
[hands cigar to the young man]
Hang on to this, boy. I think war’s just been declared.
Chris Kyle:
I’m not redneck; I’m Texan!
Taya Renae Kyle:
What’s the difference?
Chris Kyle:
We ride horses, they ride their cousins.
Messenger:
Choose your next words carefully, Leonidas. They may be your last as king.
King Leonidas:
[to himself: thinking]
”Earth and water”?
[Leonidas unsheathes and points his sword at the Messenger’s throat]
Messenger:
Madman! You’re a madman!
King Leonidas:
Earth and water? You’ll find plenty of both down there.
Messenger:
No man, Persian or Greek, no man threatens a messenger!
King Leonidas:
You bring the crowns and heads of conquered kings to my city steps. You insult my queen. You threaten my people with slavery and death! Oh, I’ve chosen my words carefully, Persian. Perhaps you should have done the same!
Messenger:
This is blasphemy! This is madness!
King Leonidas:
Madness…?
[shouting]
King Leonidas:
This is Sparta!
[Kicks the messenger down the well]
Aida Selmanagic:
We are on the list!