Good Will Hunting

Good Will Hunting quotes

59 total quotes (ID: 249)

Gerald Lambeau
Multiple Characters
Sean Maguire
Will Hunting


Will: What the **** do you want?
Lambeau: 'm Gerald Lambeau. The professor you told to **** himself.
Will: Well what the **** do you want?


Will: You ever wonder what your life would be like if you uh..if you never met your wife?
Sean: What? Wonder if I'd be better off without her?
Will: No, no, no, I'm not saying, like, better off.
Sean: No.
Will: I didn't mean it like that.
Sean: It's all right. It's an important question. Because you'll have bad times, but that'll always wake you up to the good stuff you weren't paying attention to.
Will: And you don't regret meeting your wife?
Sean: Why? Because of the pain I feel now? Well, I got regrets, Will, but I don't regret a single day I spent with her.

Will: You know, I was on this plane once. And I'm sitting there and uh...the captain gets on, he does his whole, you know, we'll be cruisin' at 35,000 feet. But then he puts the mic down n forgets to turn it off.
Sean: Mmm-hmm.
Will: And so he turns to the co-pilot 'n' he's like, "You know, all I could use right now is a ****in' blow job and a cup of coffee." So the stewardess ****in' goes bombin' up from the back of the plane to tell him that the microphone's still on. And this guy in the back of the plane is like, "Hey, hon, don't forget the coffee!"
Sean: [laughs] You ever been on a plane?
Will: No, but it's a ****in' joke. It works better if I tell it in the first person.
Sean: Yeah, it does.

[Will calls Skylar, but hangs up]
Chuckie: Who'd you call?
Will: No one. I forgot the number.
Morgan: You're ****ing retarded. You went all the way out there in the rain and you didn't bring the number?
Will: No, it was your mother's 900 number, I just ran outta' quarters.
Morgan: Why don't we get off of mothers I just got off of yours.

[on the phone to Skylar, while in jail] This is a...this is just a shot in the dark, but uh...there's no chance that you're uh...pre-law, is there?

[to a co-ed] A difficult theorem can be like a...symphony. It's very erotic.

[to his class] See you Monday. We'll be talking about Freud and why he did enough cocaine to kill a small horse.

[to Sean] So what's this? A Taster's Choice moment between guys? This is really nice.

[to Sean] Yeah, let's do it, I'm pumped! Let's let the healing begin!

And why does he hang out with those retarded gorillas, as you called them, because any one of them, if he asked them to, would take a ****ing bat to your head, okay? It's called loyalty.

Do you buy all these books retail, or do you send away for like, a shrink kit that comes with all these volumes included?

Hey..you know you'd be better off shoving that cigarette up your ass, it'd probably be healthier for you.

Is it just my imagination or has my class grown considerably? Well, by no stretch of my imagination do I believe you've all come here to hear me lecture. But rather to ascertain the identity of the mystery math magician. So, without further ado, come forward silent rogue and receive thy prize...Well, I'm sorry to disappoint my spectators, but it seems there will be no unmasking here today. However, um...my colleagues and I have conferred, and there is a problem on the board right now that took us more than two years to prove. So, let this be said: the gauntlet has been thrown down, but the faculty have answered, and answered with vigor.

Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.... that's a tough one. But I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. and somebody puts a code on my desk, something no one else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East, and once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hidin'- fifteen hundred people that I never met, never had no problem with get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', oh, "Send in the marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot, just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some guy from Southie over there, takin' shrapnel in the ass; he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from, and the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so that we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price, and of course the oil companies use the little skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices- a cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. They're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, o' course, maybe they even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis an' ****in' play slalom with the icebergs; it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's outta work, he can't afford to drive, so he's walkin' to the ****in' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids, and meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure **** it, while I'm at it, why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected President.