“They made it to the swamp and Kaarna pounced immediately. 'What's going on here? What's this? Look here, you boys have made a mess of this whole thing. Ay-ay-ay! Boys, boys, this isn't how you fight a war. Noo-oo-ooo. Fighting like this isn't going to get you anywhere. Now, we're going to pull ourselves together and cross this little swamp. The others are already at the enemy positions.”

“Men and boys always want to go fight. They are always looking for a reason to go to war. It is the saddest thing. They have this abiding notion that war is fun. And no history lesson will convince them differently.”

“You're such a nice boy, what do you want to go off and get killed in the War for?”

“"Be ye Good Boys, go seek for Heav'en, come pay the priest that holds the key;"
So spake, and speaks, and aye shall speak the last to enter Heaven, — he.”

“My show was so personal, I made it feel like you and I were the only ones there. And I’d say: Boys and girls, come here. Uncle Jack wants to tell you something. You go get Mother or Daddy, Grandmother, Grandfather, whoever is in the house. You go get them, and you make sure they exercise with me.”

“Ah cannae feel any remorse, only anger and contempt. Ah seethed when ah saw that fuckin Union Jack oan his coffin, and that smarmy, wimpy cunt ay an officer, obviously oot ay his fuckin depth here, tryin to talk tae my Ma. Worse still, these Glasgow cunts, the auld boy's side, are here through en masse. They're fill ay shite aboot how Billy died in service ay his country n all that servile Hun crap. Billy wis a daft cunt, pure and simple. No a hero, no a martyr, just a daft cunt.”

“Boys, do you hear that musketry and that artillery? It means that our friends are falling by the hundreds at the hands of the enemy, and here we are guarding a damned creek! Let's go and help them. What do you say?”

“When there are boys you have to worry about how you look, and whether they like you, and why they like another girl better, and whether they're going to ask you to something or other. It's a strain.”

“When I was just a little young boy, Papa said "Son, you'll never get far, I'll tell you the reason if you want to know, 'cause child of mine, there isn't really very far to go."”

“Amy: Pond and her boys… my poncho boys. If we're going to die, let's die looking like a peruvian folk band.”