cincpac II: Well, we gave him the molasses. Now let's feed him the sulfur.
ltjg 'Mac' McConnel: Let's crawl back into a uniform. You make us look like a bunch of pirates.
Commander Egan Powell: I'm so scared, my bones are clicking. Like dice, on a Reno craps table.
cincpac II: You're a hard man to kill, aren't you, Admiral?
Commander Egan Powell: It's about time you crawled down from Mount Rushmore and took a look around for yourself. You'd be surprised at the changes we've made in the last 100 years.
cincpac II: Torrey, you just named your own poison.
Bosun's Mate Chief Culpepper, USS Cassiday: Mister McConnell, no tellin' when we might ship together again, and, well, me and the boys all took a vote, and we voted you the best officer to be marooned on a desert island with.
Captain Rockwell Torrey: Paul, you're forcing me to throw my weight at you. Fish, or cut bait. Get on your feet or take your troubles elsewhere. I've got a ship to run.
Captain Rockwell Torrey: In case it slipped your mind, it's gunnery stations at 0830.
Ensign Jere Torrey: Leaving, sir?
Captain Rockwell Torrey: Yes. Before I pick you up and throw you to the fish.
Commander Egan Powell: He needs a zipper in his face.
Captain Rockwell Torrey: We both know what's eating you, Paul. You can't wash it out with booze.
Commander Egan Powell: Man, I tell you, the women - they're smokin' cigarettes, drinkin' whiskey, doin' the shimmy-sham-shimmy, hot damn.
Rear Admiral Rock Torrey: All battles are fought by scared men who'd rather be someplace else.
Commander Egan Powell: Does that include admirals?
Rear Admiral Rock Torrey: Yes.
cincpac II: Now, Grant didn't give a damn about organization, but neither was he afflicted with the virus. Admiral Torrey, you're going to be my Grant.
cincpac II: Indecision is a virus that can run through an army and destroy it's will to win. Or even to survive.