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Quotes from "Good Hill Hunting"
Written by Joe Stillman
Directed by Klay Hall

BILL: See? I told you it wasn't me going through your garbage. See? Deer.
DALE: I guess we owe you an apology. And I guess those were probably deer droppings, too.
BILL: Probably.

DALE: Hank, a hunting trip's not just about getting drunk or shooting deer. It's about getting out in the woods, away from the government, where your paper money is useless unless you run out of leaves. Where a man can let down his guard and share his biggest fear.
HANK: Dale, you with your guard down is my biggest fear.

BOBBY: Don't think of it as a gun. Think of it as a part of your body that fires bullets.

BOBBY: I don't mean to brag. Especially about something that hasn't actually happened yet.

PEGGY: This is an important milestone on Bobby's road to becoming a successful adult. One of the big three. Age 12: First hunt. Age 16: Learns to drive. Age 18: Finally turns 18.

NANCY: Oh, sug, you're taking my little boy on his first hunt, and you're going to bring him back a man. And how long is that going to take, exactly?

JOHN REDCORN: This hunting knife was given to me by my father, and to him by his father. And now I pass it along to you.
JOSEPH: A used knife. Uh... cool. Thanks.

MAN: No more hunting permits this year.
HANK: Why not? There are still plenty of deer out there. I caught one picking through my garbage like this was New York City.
MAN: I know. They're a real nuisance. They're eating everything in sight.
HANK: Well, of course. There's too many deer and not enough food. Issue more permits or they'll all starve.
MAN: We had to limit hunting permits to 400 this year. It was the only way we could get those environmentalists off their hunger strike.
HANK: You're telling me my boy can't go on his first hunt because you wouldn't let a bunch of twig-boys starve? Forget number 6, you're now serving nonsense.

BOBBY: Just so you know, I'm leaving a boy, but I'm coming back a man.
CONNIE: You're lucky. I'm leaving a girl and coming back a man.

PEGGY: He's at the age when little-boy hormones get violent. They don't call them "nice, quiet" hormones. They're "raging," Hank! He has a chemical need to kill. I was counting on you to channel that need away from humans.

DALE: Damn inferior Soviet surplus equipment. Never does what it's s'posed.
JOSEPH: Or maybe it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do. Maybe it just bounced a signal off a satellite to an attack sub in the Gulf of Mexico whose mission is to read our brain waves.
DALE: That's my boy! I was about to say precisely the same thing. Except the sub's in Lake Superior.

HANK: This isn't hunting. It's shooting fish in a barrel.
EUSTACE: Oh, they have that too.

DALE: The Gribble doesn't fall far from the tree.

BOBBY: Look at me. Everyone's got a deer and I don't. Everything looks so Christmas-y. Now I know how the Jewish kids feel!

HANK: You know, there's plenty of worse things than getting to hold on to your boyhood for another year. And by "holding on to your boyhood" I don't mean --
BOBBY: I know, Dad.

BOBBY: I'm drivin' the hell out of this truck, aren't I, Dad?

BOBBY: Oh, my God! I hit a deer with your truck! Oh, God!
HANK: Yeah, you did... uh... and it's a good clean kill. A good kill.

PEGGY: Oh, my son! My big, strong, normal son!

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