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Pvt. Owens: I have a headache, sir.
TSgt Moore: You don't have a headache. Only your Drill Instructor is allowed to have headaches. I have 72 of them.
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Sgt. Drill Instructor: So, what is your idea of the perfect woman?
TSgt Moore: A good looking blonde swinger who runs a liquor store.
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TSgt Moore: [shouting] If your brains were made of dynamite you couldn't blow your nose!
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TSgt Moore: Private Owens! Was the sand flea you killed male or female?
Pvt. Owens: Male, sir!
TSgt Moore: Then this ain't it. Keep looking.
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TSgt Moore: [after beating Joey in a short fight] The next time you jump me, Joey, you make it look like something.
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TSgt Moore: You ain't gonna eat no bread, no corn, no pie, cake, desserts of any kind. No whole milk, no beans, no butter, no sugar, no potatoes, candy, ice cream, salad dressing or peanut butter... You came here with nothing but fat. You're gonna leave here with nothing but muscle.
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TSgt Moore: If you were completely surrounded by an enemy force of five hundred men, what would you do?
Recruit: Kill 'em, sir!
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TSgt Moore: Out on that drill field yesterday, you people were miserable. You people ain't even a mob. A mob's got a leader. You people are a herd. I'm gonna get me a sheep dog!
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TSgt Moore: Why don't you take a long walk on a short pier?
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Description
Jim Moore is a tough-as-nails Drill Instructor with a chip on his shoulder: Pvt. Owens, who isn't quite up to snuff. Sgt. Moore is convinced that "there's a man underneath that baby powder" and sets out to force the private to rise to the occasion. Instead, he drives Owens to bail out altogether. Things only get worse when the Captain steps in and gives Moore three days to make the a Marine out of the petrified private.
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