I don't think I've watched enough movies in my entire life to develop some kind of "movie taste". But this one's good. I like!
---
Tom Smith: You don't throw away a whole life just 'cause he's banged up a little.
George Woolf: You want to know what I think?
Charles Howard: Sure.
George Woolf: I think it's better to break a man's leg than his heart.
Tom Smith: One more thing.
George Woolf: What? Let him catch me on the backstretch? You know, you're not the only one who knows this horse.
[George has awoken Red after loosing a fight]
Red Pollard: I lost?
George Woolf: No, you clobbered him.
Charles Howard: Son, what are you so mad at?
Reporter: Awful lotta hoopla for such a little horse.
Red Pollard: Though he be but little, he is fierce.
Reporter: What's that?
Red Pollard: That's Shakespeare, boys, Shakespeare.
Charles Howard: It isn't just the leg. He could fall off. He could get trampled. He could...
Marcela Howard: He could die?
[She picks a little ball game out of his pocket]
Marcela Howard: You know I play with this all the time, too. No matter how hard I try, I can't get that damn ball to stay in the hole. Just let him ride. Just let him do it.
Charles Howard: Go ahead, eat.
Red Pollard: I'm not that hungry.
Charles Howard: Sure, you're not.
Red Pollard: It's just a lot of food.
Charles Howard: I'd rather have you strong than thin.
Marcela Howard: Well he is fast.
Tom Smith: [looking down at the ground] Yeah... in every direction.
Charles Howard: The horse is too small, the jockey too big, the trainer too old, and I'm too dumb to know the difference.
[Upon entering Samuel Riddle's stables]
Red Pollard: Jesus Christ. I want to be a horse.
Tom Smith: You're almost big enough.
Red Pollard: Brick by brick my citizens. Brick by brick.
Narrator: The first time he saw Seabiscuit, the colt was walking through the fog at five in the morning. Smith would say later that the horse looked right through him. As if to say, "What the hell are you looking at? Who do you think you are?" He was a small horse, barely fifteen hands. He was hurting too. There was a limp in his walk, a wheezing when he breathed. Smith didn't pay attention to that. He was looking the horse in the eye.
[after losing a photo finish horse race]
Red Pollard: It's not my fault. Not this time.
Tom Smith: I told you, look out for Rosemont!
Red Pollard: I thought I had it!
Tom Smith: You stopped ridin'!
Red Pollard: I couldn't see him!
Tom Smith: What the hell are you talking about? He was flyin' up your tail!
Red Pollard: Yeah, well, I can't...
Tom Smith: What?
Red Pollard: ...SEE out there!
George Woolf: [during the Match race, on the final stretch to War Admiral's jockey] So long, Charlie.
Red Pollard: [narrating] You know, everybody thinks we found this broken down horse and fixed him, but we didn't. He fixed us. Every one of us. And I guess in a way we kinda fixed each other too.
posted on 12:20:00 AM
