Patton: I've always felt that I was destined for some great achievement, what I don't know.
Sgt. William Meeks: Yes, sir.
Patton: The last great opportunity of a lifetime - an entire world at war, and I'm left out of it? God will not permit this to happen! I will be allowed to fulfill my destiny! His will be done.
Patton: Now there's another thing I want you to remember. I don't want to get any messages saying that "we are holding our position." We're not holding anything. Let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose and we're going to kick him in the ass. We're going to kick the hell out of him all the time and we're going to go through him like crap through a goose.
General Omar N. Bradley: There's one big difference between you and me, George. I do this job because I've been trained to do it. You do it because you love it.
Patton: Almighty and most merciful Father, we humbly beseech Thee of Thy great goodness to restrain this immoderate weather with which we have had to contend. Grant us fair weather for battle. Graciously harken to us as solders who call upon Thee that, armed with Thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies, and establish Thy justice among men and nations. amen.
Patton: Now, there's one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home. And you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now, when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you, "What did you do in the great World War II," you won't have to say, "Well... I shoveled shit in Louisiana."
Patton: Now, we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. You know, I actually pity those poor Hun bastards we're going up against, by God, I do. We're not just going to shoot the bastards, we're going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads on our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun bastards by the bushel.
Soldier: What silly son of a bitch is in charge of this operation?
General Omar N. Bradley: I don't know, but they oughta hang him.