Ephraim Winslow quotes from The Lighthouse (2019)

View Quote If I had a steak... I'd **** it.

View Quote And I had ‘im handy and helpless. Alone. Too far downstream. And I wanted to do ‘im in. I admit I did. Seein’ the back of his head. One swipe of the cant hook’d be all. It was... I didn’t... but I didn’t... I did not. The day was long as hell on that drive. I was lead-tired. I admit it. But I saw him slippin’, not me. And we saw the jam comin’. And I stood and he slipped. He shouted up. And I just stood. “Tom, you dog!” And I stood, is all. Just stood and watched ‘im git swallowed down by them logs. All I thought when he was done is, “I could use me a smoke.” That’s it. So, I packed up his kit and fixins, as if they was mine. And, well, Ephraim Winslow has a spiffy clean slate. Thomas Howard, he don’t. No prospects. How else am I gonna find respectable work?

View Quote Thomas Wake: You're too slow - you a dullard?
Ephraim Winslow: No sir.
Thomas Wake: Fooled me.

View Quote Thomas Wake: I seen ye sparrin' with a gull. Best ye leave 'em be. Bad luck to kill a seabird.
Ephraim Winslow: More tall tales?
Thomas Wake: [throws his drink at Winslow] BAD LUCK TO KILL A SEABIRD!

View Quote Thomas Wake: Yer fond of me lobster aint' ye? I seen it - yer fond of me lobster! Say it! Say it. Say it!
Ephraim Winslow: I don't have to say nothin'.
Thomas Wake: Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK! Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!
Ephraim Winslow: Alright, have it your way. I like your cookin’.

View Quote Ephraim Winslow: You think yer so damned high and mighty cause yer a goddamned lighthouse keeper? Well, you ain't a captain of no ship and you never was, you ain't no general, no copper, you ain't the president, and you ain't my father -- and I'm sick of you actin' like you is! I'm sick of your laugh, your snoring, and your goddamned farts. Your damned goddamned farts. Goddamn yer farts! You smell like piss, you smell like jism, like rotten dick, like curdled foreskin, like hot onions **** a farmyard shit-house. And I'm sick of yer smell. I'm sick of it! I'm sick of it, you goddamned drunk. You goddamned, no-account, drunken, son-of-a-bitch-bastard liar! That's what you are, you're a goddamned drunken horse-shitting -- short -- shit liar. A liar!
Thomas Wake: Y'have a way with words, Tommy.

View Quote Thomas Wake: This place is a sty.
Ephraim Winslow: Mornin' to you too.