Good Will Hunting

Good Will Hunting quotes

59 total quotes (ID: 249)

Gerald Lambeau
Multiple Characters
Sean Maguire
Will Hunting


Lambeau: [ordering drinks] Perrier.
Sean: That's French for "club soda."
...
Sean: Put it on my tab
Tim: You ever plan on paying your tab?
Sean: Yeah, chief. I've got the winning lottery ticket right here.
Tim: What's the jackpot?
Sean: Twelve million.
Tim: I don't think that will cover it.
Sean: Yeah, but it'll cover your sex change operation!


Morgan: Boy, I always thought how stupid you need to be to get fired from that job. I mean, how hard is it to push a mother-****in' broom aroundaroom.
Chuckie: Bitch, you got fired from pushing a ****in' broom.
Morgan: I got fired because management was restructuring.
Billy: Yeah, restructuring the amount of retards they had workin' for 'em.
Morgan: Shut up. You get canned more than tuna, bitch.

Chuckie: So this is a Harvard bar, huh? I thought there'd be equations and shit on the wall.

Tom: [to Will, about Lambeau] Most people never get to see how brilliant they can be. They don't find teachers that believe in them. They get convinced they're stupid. I hope you appreciate what he's doing. Because I've seen how much he enjoys working with you. Not against you.

Skylar: You were hoping to get a goodnight kiss.
Will: No, you know. I'll tell ya, I was hoping to get a goodnight lay... But I'll settle for like, a kiss, you know.
Skylar: [Bursts out laughing] How very noble of you.
Will: Thank you. But I was, you know, hoping for a good night kiss.
Skylar: Well, let's just get it over with.
Will: Right now?
Skylar: Yup. Come on.
[They have their first kiss, Skylar giggling the whole time]
Skylar: [after a few seconds, Skylar bursts out laughing] I think I got some of your pickle!

Morgan: If you were gonna fight them, why didn't you fight them back there? We got snacks now!

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.

Skylar: I can be in the NBA. I'm tall, I like to wear shorts. Hook! Hook! Dunk! Dunk! Baby, I'm all about three points.

Skylar: What if I said I would not sleep with you again until you let me meet your friends?
Will: I'd say it's like 4:30 in the morning, they're probably up.
Skylar: Oh my god. Men are shameless. If you're not thinking with your wiener, then you're acting directly on its behalf.
Will: You bet. And on behalf of my wiener, can I get like an advanced payment?

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

Lambeau: What do you mean you didn't talk? You were in there for an hour.
Sean: He just sat there counting the seconds until the session was over. Pretty impressive, actually.
Lambeau: Why would he do that?
Sean: To prove to me he doesn't have to talk to me if he doesn't want to.
Lambeau: What is this, some kind of staring contest between two kids from the old neighborhood?
Sean: Yeah, it is. And I can't talk first.

Morgan: I swallowed a bug.

Will: [on the phone] Hey, uh....it's Will.
Skylar: Who?
Will: It's Will. I'm, you know, the really funny, good-lookin' guy you met at the bar the other night.
Skylar: I don't recall anyone who matched that description. I think I'd remember.
Will: All right. Well, you got me. It's the ugly, obnoxious toothless loser who got hammered and wouldn't leave you alone all night.
Slylar: Ohhhh, Wiill. I remember.

Chuckie: Morgan, we're not goin' to Kelly's just cus' you like the takeout girl. It's 15 minutes out of our way.
Morgan: What the **** are we gonna do, we can't spare 15 minutes?

[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.