Small town, not much to do in the evenin'.
Well that oughta be easy for a genuine son of a bitch.
Oh come on. Stop beatin' it. Get out there yourself. Stop feedin' off me. Get out of here. I can't breathe. Give me some air.
Boy, you're new meat. You're gonna have to shape up fast and hard for this gang. We got rules here. In order to learn 'em, you gotta do more work with your ears than with your mouth.
Move over. I'm gonna sit in here next to my boy - Cool Hand Luke.
don't know whether to smile, spit, or swallow.
All right. Stand back you pedestrians, this ain't no automobile accident.
When it comes to the law, nothin' is understood...I'm his official egg-peeler. That's the law!
Just nine more between you and everlastin' glory...Just little ol' eggs. They pigeon eggs, that's all.
Look at that! My baby. We're in here diggin' and dyin'. He's out there livin' and flyin'.
That's my darling Luke. He grins like a baby but bites like a gator.
You gonna fit in real good, of course, unless you get rabbit in your blood and you decide to take off for home. You give the bonus system time and a set of leg chains to keep you slowed down just a little bit, for your own good, you'll learn the rules. Now, it's all up to you. Now I can be a good guy, or I can be one real mean son-of-a-bitch. It's all up to you.
When a man's mother dies and, uh, he gets to thinking about her funeral and paying respects. Before he knows it, his mind ain't right. He's got rabbit in his blood and he runs.
What we've got here is failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it. Well, he gets it. I don't like it anymore than you men.
You run one time, you got yourself a set of chains. You run twice you got yourself two sets. You ain't gonna need no third set, 'cause you gonna get your mind right. And I mean RIGHT. Take a good look at Luke. Cool Hand Luke?