The book is equally awesome...
“Drop me into Berlin, I stick this knife in to Hitler's throat. Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day and gives me 10 grand a year for the rest of my fuckin’ life."
Penkala: Don’t do anything stupid? Who the hell is he talking to? A bunch of morons who volunteered to jump out of a perfectly good airplane, can you get any more stupid than that?
Muck: Don’t worry, there’s enough crap flying around here you’re bound to get dinged sometime. Almost every single one of these guys have been hit at least once. Except for Alley, he’s a two timer. He landed on broken glass in Normandy, and got peppered by a potato masher in Holland
Alley: You’ll find out, son
Muck: Now Bull, he caught a piece of exploding tank in Holland. And George Luz here, has never been hit. You’re one lucky bastard
Luz: Takes one to know one, Skip
Muck: Ah. Consider us blessed. And Liebgott, that skinny little guy, he got pinked in the neck in Holland. And right next to him, that other skinny little guy, that’s Popeye. He got shot in his scrawny little butt in Normandy. And ah… Buck got shot in his rather large butt in Holland.
Penkala: Yeah, kind of an Easy Company tradition to getting shot in the ass
Muck: Hey, even First Sergeant Lipton over there, he caught a couple of pieces of a tank shell burst in Carentan. One chunk in the face, another chunk almost took out his nuts .
Guarnere: How are those nuts, Sarge?
Lipton: Doing fine, Bill. Nice of you to ask.
Webster (passing a column of surrendering Germans): Hey! Hey, you! That's right! That's right! Say hello to Ford! And General fucking Motors! Look at you! You have horses! What were you thinking?!
(Garcia pulls him down)
Webster: (mutters) Dragging our asses half-way around the world (then shouts) and for what?! You ignorant, servile scum! What the fuck are we doing here!?
Eugene: Oh Lord, Grant that I shall never seek. so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, or to be loved as to love with all my heat, with all my heart.
It's from the Prayer of St. Francis Assisi):
Lord, make us instruments of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let us sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, union;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.
Grant that we may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Renee: No. I never want to treat another wounded man again. I'd rather work in a butcher shop.
Doc: But your touch calms people. That's a gift from God.
Renee: No, it's not a gift. God would never give such a painful thing.