North Dallas Forty

Maxwell:
You had better learn how to play the game, and I don't mean just the game of football.

Joe Bob:
Where's your gun, Elliott?

Phil Elliott:
Freud says that guns are an extension of your dick, Jo Bob.

Phil Elliott:
Jo Bob is here to remind us that the biggest and the baddest get to make all the rules.

Charlotte:
Well I don't agree with that.

Phil Elliott:
Agreeing doesn't play into it.

Conrad Hunter:
People who confuse brains and luck can get into a lot of trouble.

Jo Bob:
I love your legs. They got your feet at one end, and your p*ssy at the other, and I wanna f*** you.

Jo Bob:
I've never seen titties like yours. Could I show your titties to my friend O.W.?

Maxwell:
Ladies, ever had a quarterback sandwich?

Coach Johnson:
This is national TV. So don't pick your noses or scratch your nuts.

Coach Johnson:
If you moved any slower, you'd be going backwards!

Maxwell:
You know Hartman, goodie-two-shoes is fidgeting around like a one-legged cat trying to bury sh*t on a frozen pond, until old Seth fixes him a couple of pink poontang specials. You know, that crazy drink that I fix for stewardesses? Two shots out of that and Hartman is shot to sh*t, freaked out. I mean, I never saw a guy having so much fun and crying at the same time!

Maxwell:
Drake, now, takes out a bunch of those fake d*cks.

Phillip Elliott:
Hell coach, I love needles.

Charlotte:
Do you love me?

Phil Elliott:
Sorta.

BA :
Now that's concentration Elliot . .