Five Easy Pieces (1970)
Screenwriter(s): Carole Eastman (Adrien Joyce)

Angry "Diner" Speech

Bobby Dupea's (Jack Nicholson) mad 'diner' tirade when ordering a plain omelette (with tomatoes instead of potatoes), a cup of coffee and a side order of wheat toast from a stubborn, live-by-the-rules waitress (Lorna Thayer) who won't allow substitutions:

I'd like an omelet, plain, and a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast, no mayonnaise, no butter, no lettuce. And a cup of coffee... Yeah, now all you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, give me a check for the chicken salad sandwich, and you haven't broken any rules.

Five Easy Pieces (1970)
Screenwriter(s): Carole Eastman (Adrien Joyce)

Final Words to a Dying Father

Dupea's final words in a one-sided conversation to his dying, wheelchair-bound father Nicholas (William Challee), who was unable to respond due to his medical condition:

I don't know if you'd be particularly interested in hearing anything about me. My life, I mean... Most of it doesn't add up to much... that I could relate as a way of life that you'd approve of...I'd like to be able to tell you why, but I don't really...I mean, I move around a lot because things tend to get bad when I stay. And I'm looking...for auspicious beginnings, I guess...I'm trying to, you know, imagine your half of this conversation...My feeling is, that if you could talk, we probably wouldn't be talking. That's pretty much how it got to be before... I left...Are you all right? I don't know what to say...Tita suggested that we try to...I don't know. I think that she...seems to feel we've got...some understanding to reach...She totally denies the fact that we were never that comfortable with each other to begin with...The best that I can do, is apologize. We both know that I was never really that good at it, anyway...I'm sorry it didn't work out.

Little Big Man (1970)
Screenwriter(s): Calder Willingham

The White Man's Beliefs: "Everything is Dead"

As he held up a white man's scalp, Old Lodge Skins (Chief Dan George) described to Little Big Man/Jack Crabb (Dustin Hoffman) the difference in beliefs between the White Man and the "Human Beings" (their Indian tribe), after being asked if he hated the White Man:

Do you see this fine thing? Do you admire the humanity of it? Because the Human Beings, my son, they believe everything is alive. Not only man and animals, but also water, earth, stone. And also the things from them like that hair. The man from whom this hair came, he's bald on the other side, because I now own his scalp! That is the way things are. But the white man, they believe everything is dead. Stone, earth, animals, and people! Even their own people! If things keep trying to live, white man will rub them out. That is the difference.

M*A*S*H (1970)
Screenwriter(s): Ring Lardner, Jr.

"We Are the Pros..."

Capt. Trapper John (Elliott Gould) gave orders to hostile chief nurse Captain Peterson (Cathleen Cordell) of the Nurse Corps, after he and Hawkeye Pierce (Donald Sutherland) were accused of being "hoodlums" in the hospital:

Look, mother, I want to go to work in one hour. We are the pros from Dover and we figure to crack this kid's chest and get out to the golf course before it gets dark. So you go find the gas-passer and you have him pre-medicate this patient. Then bring me the latest pictures on him. The ones we saw must be 48 hours old by now. Then, call the kitchen and have them rustle us up some lunch. Ham and eggs'll be all right. Steak would be even better. And then give me at least ONE nurse who knows how to work in close without getting her TITS in my way!

Patton (1970)
Screenwriter(s): Francis Ford Coppola, Edmund H. North

Opening "Address" to the Troops

Play clip (excerpt):

Gen. George S. Patton (George C. Scott) gave a six-minute opening address to the troops of the US 3rd Army before a giant American flag on a bare stage. His barking address (composed of actual speech content delivered by Patton) was given to off-screen troops unseen in the audience:

...Now I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. Men, all this stuff you've heard about America not wanting to fight - wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of horse dung. Americans traditionally love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, big league ball players, the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war, because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.

Now, an army is a team - it lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post don't know anything more about real battle than they do about fornicating. Now, we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. You know, by God, I actually pity those poor bastards we're goin' up against. By God, I do. We're not just gonna shoot the bastard, we're going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun bastards by the bushel.

Now, some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will all do your duty. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood, shoot them in the belly. When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do.

Now there's another thing I want you to remember. I don't want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We're not holding anything. Let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose and we're gonna kick him in the ass. We're gonna kick the hell out of him all the time and we're gonna go through him like crap through a goose.

Now, there's one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home, and you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee, and he asks you: 'What did you do in the Great World War II?', you won't have to say: 'Well, I shoveled s--t in Louisiana.'

All right now, you sons-of-bitches, you know how I feel - and I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into battle anytime, anywhere. That's all.