Blazing Saddles quotes
63 total quotesLyle
Multiple Characters
Taggart
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Sheriff Bart: So, since I am your host, and you are my guest. What's your pleasure? What would you like to do?
The Waco Kid: Oh I don't know...play chess...screw...
Bart: Well, let's play chess!
The Waco Kid: Oh I don't know...play chess...screw...
Bart: Well, let's play chess!
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Bart: Man, why you do that to yourself?
The Waco Kid: Oh, you don't really wanna know...
Bart: I do, I do!
The Waco Kid: Well, if you must pry...
Bart: I must, I must!
The Waco Kid: Oh, you don't really wanna know...
Bart: I do, I do!
The Waco Kid: Well, if you must pry...
Bart: I must, I must!
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Taggart: I got it. I got it.
Hedley Lamarr: You do?
Taggart: We'll work up a "Number 6" on 'em.
Hedley: "Number 6"? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one...
Taggart: Well, that's where we go a-ridin' into town, a whampin' and whompin' every livin' thing that moves within an inch of its life. Except the women folks, of course.
Hedley: You spare the women?
Taggart: NAW. We rape the shit out of them at the Number 6 Dance later on.
Hedley: Marvelous.
Hedley Lamarr: You do?
Taggart: We'll work up a "Number 6" on 'em.
Hedley: "Number 6"? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one...
Taggart: Well, that's where we go a-ridin' into town, a whampin' and whompin' every livin' thing that moves within an inch of its life. Except the women folks, of course.
Hedley: You spare the women?
Taggart: NAW. We rape the shit out of them at the Number 6 Dance later on.
Hedley: Marvelous.
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Hedley: My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.
Taggart: God darnit Mr. Lamarr, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore.
Hedley: Shit-kicker.
Taggart: God darnit Mr. Lamarr, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore.
Hedley: Shit-kicker.
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Hedley Lamarr: Raise your right hand... [Nazi's raise left] ...Right hand [Nazi's switch]. Repeat after me: I...
Brigands: I...
Hedley Lamarr: ...your name...
Brigands: ...your name...
Hedley Lamarr: [to himself] Shmucks. [loud] pledge allegiance...
Brigands: ...do pledge allegiance...
Hedley Lamarr: ...to Hedley Lamarr...
Brigands: ...to Hedy Lamarr...
Hedley Lamarr: That's Hedley!!
Brigands: That's Hedley!!
Hedley Lamarr:...and to the evil...
Brigands:...and to the evil...
Hedley Lamarr: ...for which he stands.
Brigands:...for which he stands.
Hedley Lamarr: Now go do, that voodoo, that you do, so weeeell!!!
Brigands: I...
Hedley Lamarr: ...your name...
Brigands: ...your name...
Hedley Lamarr: [to himself] Shmucks. [loud] pledge allegiance...
Brigands: ...do pledge allegiance...
Hedley Lamarr: ...to Hedley Lamarr...
Brigands: ...to Hedy Lamarr...
Hedley Lamarr: That's Hedley!!
Brigands: That's Hedley!!
Hedley Lamarr:...and to the evil...
Brigands:...and to the evil...
Hedley Lamarr: ...for which he stands.
Brigands:...for which he stands.
Hedley Lamarr: Now go do, that voodoo, that you do, so weeeell!!!
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[Bart, disguised as a Klansman, describes his qualifications as a villain]
Bart: Stampeding cattle.
Hedley Lamarr: That's not much of a crime.
Bart: Through the Vatican?
Hedley Lamarr: [smiling] Kinky! Sign here. (Bart begins to sign, his dark-skinned hand showing)
Jim (thinking fast, talking mock-southern, pretending to scrub the back of Bart's hand): Rhett, how many times have I told you to wash up after weekly cross-burnin's? (turns Bart's hand up, exposing naturally-light palm) See, it's comin' off! (Taggart pulls Bart's hood off).
Bart: And now, for my next impression... Jesse Owens! (Bart and Jim sprint away)
Hedley Lamarr: Cease them! [fires a shot in the air] Catch them! Get them!
Taggart: Hold up, men! We'll head them off at the pass!
Hedley Lamarr: 'Head them off at the pass'?! I hate that clich?! [Shoots Taggart in the foot]
Bart: Stampeding cattle.
Hedley Lamarr: That's not much of a crime.
Bart: Through the Vatican?
Hedley Lamarr: [smiling] Kinky! Sign here. (Bart begins to sign, his dark-skinned hand showing)
Jim (thinking fast, talking mock-southern, pretending to scrub the back of Bart's hand): Rhett, how many times have I told you to wash up after weekly cross-burnin's? (turns Bart's hand up, exposing naturally-light palm) See, it's comin' off! (Taggart pulls Bart's hood off).
Bart: And now, for my next impression... Jesse Owens! (Bart and Jim sprint away)
Hedley Lamarr: Cease them! [fires a shot in the air] Catch them! Get them!
Taggart: Hold up, men! We'll head them off at the pass!
Hedley Lamarr: 'Head them off at the pass'?! I hate that clich?! [Shoots Taggart in the foot]
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[Last lines]
Jim: Where you headed, cowboy?
Bart: Nowhere special.
Jim: Nowhere special. Always wanted to go there.
Bart: Come on.
Jim: Where you headed, cowboy?
Bart: Nowhere special.
Jim: Nowhere special. Always wanted to go there.
Bart: Come on.
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Lyle: [Taunting the mainly-black rail workers] When you was slaves, you sang like birds. Come on! Let's hear a good, old-fashioned **** work song!
[Enraged ("**** work song...?"), the workers move to attack him, but are stopped by Bart: He promptly proceeds to sing...]
Bart: [Crooning, Sammy Davis, Jr.-style, with fellow railworkers providing backing vocals] I, get no kick, from champagne... Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all...[the bullying supervisors look immensely confused] so why then should it be true?...that I get a belt - outta you... Some get a kick from coca-yeai-yeaiiiinnnneee...
Lyle: Hold it! Hold it! What the hell is that shit?! I meant a song! A real song! Like [singing] "Swing low, sweet chariot"...
[The railworkers mumble to each other in mock confusion]
Lyle: Don't know that one, huh. Well how about "De Camptown Ladies"?
Bart: De Camptown Ladies?
Railworkers: De Camptown Ladies?
Lyle: Oh, you know! "De Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown Race Track five miles long, oh-de-do-da-dahy!"
[The white supervisors begin joining in, complete with ludicrous dancing actions, much to the amusement of the railworkers]
[Enraged ("**** work song...?"), the workers move to attack him, but are stopped by Bart: He promptly proceeds to sing...]
Bart: [Crooning, Sammy Davis, Jr.-style, with fellow railworkers providing backing vocals] I, get no kick, from champagne... Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all...[the bullying supervisors look immensely confused] so why then should it be true?...that I get a belt - outta you... Some get a kick from coca-yeai-yeaiiiinnnneee...
Lyle: Hold it! Hold it! What the hell is that shit?! I meant a song! A real song! Like [singing] "Swing low, sweet chariot"...
[The railworkers mumble to each other in mock confusion]
Lyle: Don't know that one, huh. Well how about "De Camptown Ladies"?
Bart: De Camptown Ladies?
Railworkers: De Camptown Ladies?
Lyle: Oh, you know! "De Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown Race Track five miles long, oh-de-do-da-dahy!"
[The white supervisors begin joining in, complete with ludicrous dancing actions, much to the amusement of the railworkers]
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Uh sir, sir. He specifically requested two '****s'! Well, to tell a family secret--my grandmother was Dutch.
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Well, don't just stand there looking stupid and holding your hands in pain. How 'bout a little (****s gun) applause for the Waco Kid? (Taggert and men clap)
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See, I knew you wasn't no Waco Kid. You was just pullin' my lariat!
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(taunting Klansmen) Hey, where all da white women at?
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Well raise my rent! You are the Kid!
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(holding his gun to his head) Nobody moves or the **** gets it!
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Well, you devious son of a bitch.