[At Sterling, when arrows rain down on the Scots.]
Stephen: The Lord tells me he can get me out of this mess, but he's pretty sure you're fucked.
Skip: I'd rather be home with a fucked-up hand up in some pussy than to be out here healthier than a motherfucker without it... Shit.
Alberto Aragon: Just because I talk with an accent doesn't mean I think with an accent.
Marko: We're all crazy, Natalija. We just haven't been diagnosed yet.
Capt. T.C. Doyle: You slept with the wife of General "Kill-'em-all-and-let-God-sort-them-out" Richardson?
David Poole: I thought it was his daughter.
Capt. T.C. Doyle: Oh yeah, he would've been fine with that.
Montrose: Great men, such as yourself, draw rumors as shite draws flies.
Duke of Argyll: You are the shite, Montrose, and the flies upon it.
Gunn: They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn them. By the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them, lest we forget.
Sara Crewe: Papa? Maya told me that all girls are princesses.
Capt. Crewe: Maya... is a very wise woman.
Sara Crewe: Then it's true?
Capt. Crewe: You can be anything you want to be, my love, as long as you believe.
Sara Crewe: What do you believe?
Capt. Crewe: I believe that you are... and always will be... my little princess.
A: Good night, good night... Parting is such sweet sorrow... that I shall say good night, till it be tomorrow... sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breasts... would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest... Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell... his help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.
Lady Anne: No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
Richard III: But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
David: Revolutions are contagious.