Little Enos: I'd like to kick your ass.
Buford T. Justice: You can't kick that high, cricket crotch.
Junior: Does this mean I won't be your little tick turd anymore?
Buford T. Justice: Son, you'll always be my tick turd.
Cledus Snow: I get to be the bandit? I don't have to drive the truck, don't have to haul anything but my ass?
Buford T. Justice: Gimme the good old days when a pair of boobs were a couple of dumb guys.
Little Enos: Daddy, we just walked past a Penicillin dispenser.
Big Enos Burdette: I feel like the guest of honor at a crab's convention.
Buford T. Justice: Junior, retirement is cat shit.
Buford T. Justice: Follow that sum bitch.
Dusty Trails: Is it just me or are you slowing down?
Cledus Snow: Maybe. Think of it this way, what good is the roadrunner without the coyote? What good would the fox be without the hound? What good is the Bandit without the Smokey?
Buford T. Justice: I've said it before and I'll say it again. There is no way, no way that you could come from my loins. Soon as we get home, I'm gonna put a lump on your mama's head.