Racetrack: I say, that what Spot Conlon says, is what I say.
Spot Conlon: Your honor, I object.
Judge Monahan: On what grounds?
Spot Conlon: On the grounds of Brooklyn, your honor.
Jack Kelly: You shouldn't be callin' people lousy little shrimps, Oscar, unless you're referrin' to the family resemblance in your brother here.
Racetrack: You know that hot tip I told you about?
Jack Kelly: Yeah.
Racetrack: Nobody told the horse.
Racetrack: In 1899, the streets of New York City echoed with the voices of newsies, peddling the papers of Joseph Pulitzer, William Randalph Hearst, and other giants of the newspaper world. On every corner you saw them carrying the banner. Bringing you the news for a penny a pape. Poor orphans and runaways, the newsies were a ragged army without a leader, until one day all that changed.
Joseph Pulitzer: Know what I was doing at your age, boy? I was in a war. The Civil War.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, I heard of it. So, did ya win?
Joseph Pulitzer: People think war is about right or wrong and not power.
Jack Kelly: Yeah, I heard of that too. I don't just sell your papes, Joe. Sometime I read 'em.
Jack Kelly: So this snooty mug says to me, 'You can't see Mr. Pulitzer. No one sees Mr. Pulitzer.' Real hoity-toity, you know the type?
Les Jacobs: Real hoity-toity.
Jack Kelly: So that's when I says to him, 'Listen, I ain't in the habit of transacting no business with office boys. Just tell him Jack Kelly's here to see him now!'.
Les Jacobs: That's when he threw us out.
Jack Kelly: Got no brains. Why we starting to fight each other? Its just what the big shots wanna see. That we're street trash, street rats with no brains. No respect for nothin' including ourselfs. So heres how it is if we don't act together then we nothin'. If we don't stick together we nothin'. And if we can't even trust each other, then we nothin'. So whats it gunna be?
Spot Conlon: Where's my picture? Where does it mention me?
Jack Kelly: Stop thinking about yourself.