Reverend Lowe: You see, you meddling little shit!

Mac: [Showing Uncle Red the Silver Bullet] There it is. Nicest piece of work I ever done, I think. It's got a low-grain load... so it won't tumble. Ought to be pretty accurate.

Uncle Red: Why, shoot, it's just a gag. I mean, uh, what the heck you gonna shoot a .44 bullet at anyway... made out of silver?

Mac: How about a werewolf?

Uncle Red: Where's your Mom?

Marty Coslaw: She and Dad are out back lighting the barbeque, yeah, and Jane's walking around in all these new clothes showing off her tits, acting like no one ever had tits before her.

Uncle Red: You wanna know what I think?

Marty Coslaw: No, we just called you out here to admire your pretty little face.

Uncle Red: You better watch your mouth, right now. You're on thin ice with me, son.

Marty Coslaw: You know who used to have a baseball bat like that? Mr. Knopfler.

Uncle Red: So?

Jane Coslaw: It looked like Bigfoot had used it for a toothpick!

Uncle Red: I feel like a virgin on prom night.

Uncle Red: Holy jumped-up baldheaded Jesus palomino!

Jane Coslaw: Uncle Red...

Uncle Red: [to Jane then Marty then Jane again] From him I'd expect it. Sometimes I think your common sense got paralyzed along with your legs. But from you, Jane - you're Miss Polly Practical!

Jane Coslaw: You don't understand.

Uncle Red: I understand that my niece and my nephew are sending little love notes to the local minister suggesting he gargle with broken glass or eat a rat-poison omelette!

[Brady drops a garter snake from a tree above, getting Jane to fall into a puddle of mud]

Brady Kincaid: Look alive!

Brady Kincaid: [Marty covers his face as Brady continues to laugh at Jane] Hey, Jane! Did you wet your pants?

Marty Coslaw: Jane, I'm sorry.

Jane Coslaw: Oh, yeah, sure!

Marty Coslaw: I didn't mean to.

Jane Coslaw: Oh, no. You never mean to! I hate you, you booger!

Billy McLaren: Where's it coming from? Over there?

Bobby Robertson: No, it's behind us. I told you you couldn't trust this fog!

Aspinall: It's... under the fog!

Andy Fairton: What're you saying?

Aspinall: It's right here WITH us!

[more growling can be heard and Edgar is attacked; Maggie screams]

Bobby Robertson: [petrified with fear] I can't move!

Aspinall: Start backing up, Andy.

Andy Fairton: Yeah.

Aspinall: Real slow.

[Aspinall is attacked and Andy's gun goes off]

Milt Sturmfuller: Ow! That's it. Oh, that hurts my parts.

[Marty rides up to his friends Brady and Tammy at the end of school]

Brady Kincaid: Hey, it's Madman Marty on the Silver Bullet! So, Marty, glad to be out of jail?

Marty Coslaw: No. I like school.

Tammy Sturmfuller: Booger!

[Arnie the town drunk goes out to fix the train tracks in the middle of the night, becoming the first victim of the werewolf attacks]

Arnie Westrum: [Arnie drunkenly sings] My beer is Rheingold, the dry beer / Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer / It's not bitter, not sweet, it's a real frosty treat / Won't you buy, won't you but Rheingold Beer / Won't you try, won't you buy

Arnie Westrum: [Arnie hears the rustle of leaves] Jesus, Arnie. What're you, are you afraid of the Boogeyman? Heh-heh. God. Come on out of there, buster, and give me a hand. All right, what is it that you want, Arnie? I want some Rheingold... As soon as I get that dirt out of there.

Older Jane: [narrating] The killing had begun, but at first, no one knew it. You see, Arnie Westrum was a chronic drunk. And what happened seemed like an accident. The county coroner concluded Arnie had passed out on the tracks. There wasn't enough evidence to conclude anything else.

[Marty rides alongside Tammy and gets her home, as the drunken father Milt Sturmfuller sees Marty]

Milt Sturmfuller: Damn cripples. Always end up on welfare. Ought to electrocute them all. Balance the damn budget.

Jane Coslaw: Aww, look out world, Marty the Great didn't get something he wanted.

[Marty goes into Jane's room thinking she's asleep, when she see's Marty putting money down on her lamp table for she can get new pantyhose that Brady dirtied]

Jane Coslaw: [Jane whispers in the dark] What's the money for?

Marty Coslaw: A new pair of pantyhose. Is it enough? Jane, please take the money. It was Brady's idea. Honest to God. I want to make up.

Jane Coslaw: [Jane turns on the light] I can get a pair of L'eggs down at the pharmacy for $1.49.

Marty Coslaw: This is for the good guys!

Jane Coslaw: In the made-up stories, the guy who's the werewolf only changes when the moon is full, but maybe he's like this almost all the time, only as the moon gets fuller...

Marty Coslaw: ...the guy gets wolfier.

Uncle Red: [after Jane and Marty tell him about the werewolf] I'm a little too old to be playing "Hardy Boys meet Reverend Werewolf"!

Uncle Red: There are no such things as werewolves!

[Stella Randolph cries in her bedroom with a handful of pills to overdose on]

Stella Randolph: Suicides go to hell, especially if they're pregnant, and I don't even care.

[as the werewolf makes its way up to her bedroom window]

Pete Sylvester: Maybe that wasn't such a good idea telling that Smokey Bear from the detective division to 'fuck off', Joe.

Sheriff Joe Haller: Well, I waited till he hung up.

Uncle Red: [trying to explain having a silver bullet made] My nephew has just discovered the Lone Ranger.

[Andy Fairton talks trash about Sheriff Haller not finding out about who murdered Stella Randolph]

Andy Fairton: Joe Haller couldn't find his own ass if somebody rammed it full of radium and gave him a Geiger counter!

Sheriff Joe Haller: [to the mob, led by Andy Fairton] The law has a name for what you people are planning. It's called "private justice". And private justice is about a step and a half away from lynch mobs and hang ropes. Now I may be no J. Edgar Hoover, but I am the law in Tarker's Mills. I want all you people to go home.

Andy Fairton: Don't let this guy scare you! What's he done since this whole thing started but hang his face out? He ain't got so much as a fingerprint!

Owen Knopfler: Shut up, Andy.

Andy Fairton: No, don't tell me to shut up.

Herb Kincaid: Yes... Shut up. I just came from my boy's funeral.

Sheriff Joe Haller: Herb. Herb, I know how upset... how grief-stricken you must be.

Herb Kincaid: He was torn apart.

Sheriff Joe Haller: I know that. I...

Herb Kincaid: Upset? Grief-stricken? You don't know what those words mean. My son was torn to pieces. Pieces!

[shouting, holding up an unseen Polaroid]

Herb Kincaid: MY SON WAS TORN TO PIECES! You come in here and talk to these men about private justice? You dare to do that? Why do you go out to Harmony Hill, Sheriff Haller, and dig up what's left of my boy Brady... and explain to him about private justice. Would you want to do that? As for me, I'm gonna go out and hunt up a little private justice.

[walks out of the bar]

Andy Fairton: [to the mob] You heard him. Let's go!

[first lines]

Older Jane: [Older Jane narrating] The last full moon of that Spring came a little more than a month before school let out for Summer vacation. Our town's long nightmare began that night.

[Older Jane narrates about the townspeople and her brother Marty]

Older Jane: [narrating at the scene of the town barbecue] This is Tarker's Mills, where I grew up. And this is how it looked that Spring, a town where people cared about each other as much as they cared about themselves

Older Jane: [narrating at the scene of Marty] I was nearly 15 years old, and my brother, Marty, was 11. Marty was the cross I had to bare. He wasn't so bad, actually. He was just constantly thrown in my face by my parents.

Nan Coslaw: [afguing about his drinking in front of Mary] Look, Marty has enough strikes against him...

Uncle Red: He doesn't have any strikes against him!

Nan Coslaw: That I'm afraid one day he's just going to give up.

Uncle Red: He's not going to give up.

Nan Coslaw: Well, he doesn't need you showing him how to do it!

Jane Coslaw: You always take his side 'cause he's crippled. Well, it's not my fault he's crippled!

Nan Coslaw: You just wanna be quiet or I'm gonna smack you! Now, I mean it!

Stella's Boyfriend: I told you, Babe, it ain't my baby - and don't you ever drag me off like that again!

Stella Randolph: Please, don't say that. You know it's your baby.

Stella's Boyfriend: Look, we had this conversation before.

Stella Randolph: You know it better than anybody.

Stella's Boyfriend: Sorry, Babe.

Stella Randolph: I have to have some help and I don't know what to do.

Stella's Boyfriend: It's your oven but it ain't my bun ya got bakin' in there, huh? See ya.

Stella Randolph: [sobbing] You have to help me.

Stella's Boyfriend: [abandoning her] Remember the good times, you know what I mean?

Maggie Andrews: What's the matter, Bobby? You gonna make lemonade in your pants?

Bobby Robertson: I ain't scared!

Elmer Zinneman: [sees Marty stuck inside the condemned covered bridge] Spooky in here, isn't it?