Col. Jessup: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I’m entitled.
Col. Jessup: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth!
Col. Jessup: You can’t handle the truth!

=====

Jessup: I’d appreciate it if he would address me as “Colonel” or “Sir.” I believe I’ve earned it.
Randolph: Counsel will refer to the witness as “Colonel” or “Sir.”
Jessup: I don’t know what the hell kind of unit you’re running here.
Randolph: And you will refer to this court as “Your Honor” or “Judge”… I’m quite certain I’ve earned it. Take your seat, Colonel.
====

Col. Jessup: You see Danny, I can deal with the bullets, and the bombs, and the blood. I don’t want money, and I don’t want medals. What I do want is for you to stand there in that faggoty white uniform and with your Harvard mouth extend me some *beep* courtesy. You gotta ask me nicely.
====

Col. Jessup: Son, we live in a world that has walls.
And those walls have to be guarded by men
with guns. Who’s gonna do it? You? You,
Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater
responsibility than you can possibly
fathom. You weep for Santiago and you
curse the marines. You have that luxury.
You have the luxury of not knowing what I
know: That Santiago’s death, while tragic,
probably saved lives. And my existence,
while grotesque and incomprehensible to
you, saves lives.You don’t want the truth. Because deep
down, in places you don’t talk about at
parties, you want me on that wall. You
need me on that wall.

We use words like honor, code,
loyalty…we use these words as the
backbone to a life spent defending
something. You use them as a punchline.

I have neither the time nor the
inclination to explain myself to a man who
rises and sleeps under the blanket of the
very freedom that I provide, and then questions the
manner in which I provide it. I would rather
you just said thank you and went on your
way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a
weapon and stand a post. Either way, I
don’t give a damn what you think you’re
entitled to!