Silver Bullet Quotes
A werewolf terrorizes a small city where lives Marty Coslaw, - a paralytic boy - his uncle and his sister - the narrator of the story.
Billy McLaren: Where's it coming from? Over there?
Bobby Robertson: No, it's behind us. I told you you couldn't trust this fog!
Aspinall: It's... under the fog!
Andy Fairton: What're you saying?
Aspinall: It's right here WITH us!
[more growling can be heard and Edgar is attacked; Maggie screams]
Bobby Robertson: [petrified with fear] I can't move!
Aspinall: Start backing up, Andy.
Andy Fairton: Yeah.
Aspinall: Real slow.
[Aspinall is attacked and Andy's gun goes off]
Bobby Robertson: No, it's behind us. I told you you couldn't trust this fog!
Aspinall: It's... under the fog!
Andy Fairton: What're you saying?
Aspinall: It's right here WITH us!
[more growling can be heard and Edgar is attacked; Maggie screams]
Bobby Robertson: [petrified with fear] I can't move!
Aspinall: Start backing up, Andy.
Andy Fairton: Yeah.
Aspinall: Real slow.
[Aspinall is attacked and Andy's gun goes off]
Uncle Red: Holy jumped-up baldheaded Jesus palomino!
Jane Coslaw: Uncle Red...
Uncle Red: [to Jane then Marty then Jane again] From him I'd expect it. Sometimes I think your common sense got paralyzed along with your legs. But from you, Jane - you're Miss Polly Practical!
Jane Coslaw: You don't understand.
Uncle Red: I understand that my niece and my nephew are sending little love notes to the local minister suggesting he gargle with broken glass or eat a rat-poison omelette!
Jane Coslaw: Uncle Red...
Uncle Red: [to Jane then Marty then Jane again] From him I'd expect it. Sometimes I think your common sense got paralyzed along with your legs. But from you, Jane - you're Miss Polly Practical!
Jane Coslaw: You don't understand.
Uncle Red: I understand that my niece and my nephew are sending little love notes to the local minister suggesting he gargle with broken glass or eat a rat-poison omelette!
Arnie Westrum: [singing] My beer is Rango, right here. The name's Rango whenever I hear. It's not bitter, not sweet, a real frosty treat. Won't you buy, won't you buy Rango Beer. Won't you try, won't you buy...
Arnie Westrum: [hearing the crunch of a footstep] Jesus, Arnie. What're you - afraid of boogeyman? Heh-heh. God. Come on out of there, buster, and gimme a hand. All right now. What is it that you want, Arnie? I want some Rango!
Arnie Westrum: [hearing the crunch of a footstep] Jesus, Arnie. What're you - afraid of boogeyman? Heh-heh. God. Come on out of there, buster, and gimme a hand. All right now. What is it that you want, Arnie? I want some Rango!
Sheriff Joe Haller: [to the mob, lead by Andy Fairton] The law has a name for what you people are planning. It's called "private justice". And private justice is about a step and a half away from lynch mobs and hang ropes. Now I may be no J. Edgar Hoover, but I am the law in Tarker's Mills. I want all you people to go home.
Andy Fairton: Don't let this guy scare you! What's he done since this whole thing started but hang his face out? He ain't got so much as a fingerprint!
Owen Knopfler: Shut up, Andy.
Andy Fairton: No, don't tell me to shut up.
Herb Kincaid: Yes... Shut up. I just came from my boy's funeral.
Sheriff Joe Haller: Herb. Herb, I know how upset... how grief-stricken you must be.
Herb Kincaid: He was torn apart.
Sheriff Joe Haller: I know that. I...
Herb Kincaid: Upset? Grief-stricken? You don't know what those words mean. My son was torn to pieces. Pieces!
[shouts]
Herb Kincaid: MY SON WAS TORN TO PIECES! You come in here and talk to these men about private justice? You dare to do that? Why do you go out to Harmony Hill, Sheriff Haller, and dig up what's left of my boy Brady... and explain to him about private justice. Would you want to do that? As for me, I'm gonna go out and hunt up a little private justice.
[walks out of the bar]
Andy Fairton: [to the mob] You heard him. Let's go!
Andy Fairton: Don't let this guy scare you! What's he done since this whole thing started but hang his face out? He ain't got so much as a fingerprint!
Owen Knopfler: Shut up, Andy.
Andy Fairton: No, don't tell me to shut up.
Herb Kincaid: Yes... Shut up. I just came from my boy's funeral.
Sheriff Joe Haller: Herb. Herb, I know how upset... how grief-stricken you must be.
Herb Kincaid: He was torn apart.
Sheriff Joe Haller: I know that. I...
Herb Kincaid: Upset? Grief-stricken? You don't know what those words mean. My son was torn to pieces. Pieces!
[shouts]
Herb Kincaid: MY SON WAS TORN TO PIECES! You come in here and talk to these men about private justice? You dare to do that? Why do you go out to Harmony Hill, Sheriff Haller, and dig up what's left of my boy Brady... and explain to him about private justice. Would you want to do that? As for me, I'm gonna go out and hunt up a little private justice.
[walks out of the bar]
Andy Fairton: [to the mob] You heard him. Let's go!
Stella's Boyfriend: I told you, Babe, it ain't my baby - and don't you ever drag me off like that again!
Stella Randolph: Please, don't say that. You know it's your baby.
Stella's Boyfriend: Look, we had this conversation before.
Stella Randolph: You know it better than anybody.
Stella's Boyfriend: Sorry, Babe.
Stella Randolph: I have to have some help and I don't know what to do.
Stella's Boyfriend: It's your oven but it ain't my bun ya got bakin' in there, huh? See ya.
Stella Randolph: [sobbing] You have to help me.
Stella's Boyfriend: [abandoning her] Remember the good times, you know what I mean?
Stella Randolph: Please, don't say that. You know it's your baby.
Stella's Boyfriend: Look, we had this conversation before.
Stella Randolph: You know it better than anybody.
Stella's Boyfriend: Sorry, Babe.
Stella Randolph: I have to have some help and I don't know what to do.
Stella's Boyfriend: It's your oven but it ain't my bun ya got bakin' in there, huh? See ya.
Stella Randolph: [sobbing] You have to help me.
Stella's Boyfriend: [abandoning her] Remember the good times, you know what I mean?
