Loki_Six

"I think it's time we threw the rule book out the window."

"I should never've let Mr. Tucker talk me into watching 'The Exorcist' last week."

"My momma says there's two types of people that live in Gatlin, the people too stupid to leave and the ones too stuck to move."

"Y'know what I was thinking about today? I was thinking 'bout those street gangs they had down in Los Angeles, those Crips and those Bloods? I was thinking about that buncha new laws they came up with, in the 1980's I think it was, to combat those street-gangs, those Crips and those Bloods. And, if I remember rightly, the gist of what those new laws were saying was if you join one of these gangs, and you're running with 'em, and down the block one night, unbeknownst to you, one of your fellow Crips, or your fellow Bloods, shoot up a place, or stab a guy, well then, even though you didn't know nothing about it, and even though you may've just been standing on a streetcorner minding your own business, what these new laws said was you're still culpable. You're still culpable, by the very act of joining those Crips, or those Bloods, in the first place. Which got me thinking, Father, that whole type of situation is kinda like your Church boys, ain't it? You've got your colors, you've got your clubhouse, you're, for want of a better word, a gang. And if you're upstairs smoking a pipe and reading a bible while one of your fellow gang members is downstairs fucking an altar boy then, Father, just like those Crips, and just like those Bloods, you're culpable. Cos you joined the gang, man. And I don't care if you never did shit or you never saw shit or you never heard shit. You joined the gang. You're culpable. And when a person is culpable to altar-boy-fucking, or any kinda boy-fucking, I know you guys didn't really narrow that down, then they kinda forfeit the right to come into my house and say anything about me, or my life, or my daughter, or my billboards. So, why don't you just finish your tea there, Father, and get the fuck outta my kitchen."

"Don't be nice to me. It's not how it works."

"I'm too nice to people."

"You know what's bothering me about this case? Makes me ashamed to be a man."

"I've been afraid. When l was 17 years old. l was crazy in love with this college girl. She was beautiful. Oh, gorgeous. And a ball of fire. She, of course, was crazy in love with Texas A&Ms all-American defensive end Scott LeBeau. And l mean, this cat was six-foot-six if he was a foot. Gary Cooper handsome. One day, a bunch of friends and l decided we'd drink too much beer and crash a big old sorority cotillion. You know, everybody's dressed up in chiffon gowns and Daddy's tuxedo. There we are, looking like a bunch of brush poppers and goat ropers. At the governors ranch too. So my friends tell me that they see LeBeau entering the Port-a-Potty. One of them little old fiberglass shithouses. l did a better tackle on that fiberglass shithouse than he ever did on the football field and the thing rolled down a bluff into a creek. Screaming and yelling all the way down... except it dont sound like no all-American defensive end. lts decidedly more feminine. The love of my life, rolling down the bluff in a fiberglass shithouse. lt was very, very sad."

"You know how some people have imaginary friends? I think you might have imaginary enemies."

"You know, sometimes I'm glad I'm not out in the world, 'cause it seems awful confusing."