Narrator: The first time he saw Seabiscuit, the colt was walking through the fog at five in the morning. Smith would say later that the horse looked right through him. As if to say, "What the hell are you looking at? Who do you think you are?" He was a small horse, barely fifteen hands. He was hurting too. There was a limp in his walk, a wheezing when he breathed. Smith didn't pay attention to that. He was looking the horse in the eye.
Charles Howard: The horse is too small, the jockey too big, the trainer too old, and I'm too dumb to know the difference.
Red Pollard: I'm fine George. I don't need your help and I sure as shit don't need your charity. Leave me alone.
George Woolf: You know, if you did more riding and less talking you might start winning some races.
Red Pollard: I got two bucks says I beat you in this one.
George Woolf: I'm not sure you do but I got five bucks says that you don't.
Tom Smith: One more thing.
George Woolf: What? Let him catch me on the backstretch? You know, you're not the only one who knows this horse.
California Doctor: If he breaks it again, it's possible he could never walk again.
Red Pollard: He just said it's possible. Well, hell, anything's possible. We've proved that already.
Sam: You sure that leg'll hold you?
Red Pollard: He's a 1200 pound horse, Sam. I'm an afterthought.
Sam: No, I meant your leg.