[Tim salutes the Colonel]
Col. Patterson: Do you still live here?
Tim: Colonel, good to see you. I see the Lincoln's running well.
Col. Patterson: Oh, got me up here all the way from Texas. I tell you, '61 was a vintage year. You should've bought one the day they came out.
Tim: I would've, sir, but I was six.
Col. Patterson: That's no excuse.

Jill: Would you like a drink?
Col. Patterson: Water, straight from the tap. None of that hippy bottled stuff. Say, did you get the tickets to the guns and knives show?
Tim: Guns and knives? I thought you wanted to see Guns 'N Roses.
Col. Patterson: What?
Tim: It's a joke. It's a joke.
Col. Patterson: Ah, you're a great kidder.

Jill: Are you enjoying it?
Tim: A lot of facts.
Jill: Yeah, it's so detailed.
Tim: Tremendous detail.
Jill: And it's not flowery.
Tim: Oh, no flowers here.
Jill: No, just page after page of detail.
Tim: Can't go wrong with details.
Jill: It's boring, isn't it?
Tim: It's mind-numbing.

Jill: I thought this was gonna be more of a story, but there's nothing in there but tactics and military strategy. What are we going to tell him?
Tim: Tell him the truth.
Jill: Oh, sure. You know my dad. He hears bad news, he hits the roof, then he sulks, then he doesn't wanna talk about it anymore, and then the whole thing remains unresolved.
Tim: He can take it. He's a tough guy. He gives shrapnel as gifts.

Tim: When I do something you don't like, you don't hold back on me.
Jill: I've held back lots of things from you, Tim.
Tim: Back the truth trolley up here a little bit. What kind of things don't you let me know?
Jill: Oh, where shall I start?
Tim: With one.
Jill: OK. You know that green suit you bought?
Tim: That wasn't green. That was more of a pistachio. You said it was stunning.
Jill: What was stunning was that you could walk into a store and actually walk out with that suit.

Tim: It's a tad bit wordy. You know, in a good way.
Col. Patterson: A writer's supposed to use words. What do you want - pictures?
Tim: Could've helped it a little. What was so odd - you have a book, and there's no people in it.
Col. Patterson: This is a book about policy and objectives and how to win a war. You don't wanna clutter that up with a lot of people.
Tim: Good point. Writing a book about war, you don't wanna talk about people.
Col. Patterson: What are you trying to tell me, Tim? That you had mixed feelings about my book?
Tim: I wouldn't say that.
Col. Patterson: You wouldn't know good literature if it bit you in the butt.

Col. Patterson: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. I-I appreciate you defending me, but he's entitled to his opinion.
Tim: Thank you.
Col. Patterson: Even though we both know he's wrong. Let's face it, Tim, you have no taste.
Jill: Tim has wonderful taste.
Col. Patterson: Oh, yeah? Remember that green suit he wore to your sister's wedding?
Tim: It wasn't green, it was avocado, almost melon.

Tim: I remember now. The salesman said that suit was a loden heather.

Wilson: [snores]
Jill: Wilson?
Wilson: [wakes up] Huh? [clears throat] Hi-de-ho, neighborette.
Jill: What are you doing?
Wilson: Well, I'm just trying to read this extremely lengthy tome that your father gave me.
Jill: Why are you doing it out here? It's freezing cold.
Wilson: Well, I tried reading inside, but I kept falling asleep.

Col. Patterson: So, I'm standing there in Korea right on the 38th parallel, when who taps me on the shoulder? General Douglas MacArthur.
Mark: Who?
Col. Patterson: Your father never told you about General MacArthur?
Mark: No, but he told me about General Motors.
Col. Patterson: Well, this guy was even bigger. [grabs an apple] So we're standing there, and what do you think he hands me?
Mark: An apple?
Col. Patterson: A grenade. You know how to throw one of these things, son? [Mark shakes his head] You grip it in your right hand, you pull the pin with your teeth and you let it fly.
Jill: No throwing grenades in the house, Mark.
Mark: How'd you know what it was?
Jill: You kidding? I grew up with fruit ammunition.