Will: Uncle Phil, I'm telling you, I think we should just pull into a gas station.
Philip: Will, for the last time, I don't need directions. [car splutters]
Will: You're right. You need gas.
Philip: Okay, I made a wrong turn. It's no big deal, it's not the end of the world. We'll just... We'll thumb a ride to the nearest gas station. We used to do it a lot in the '60s.
Will: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Uncle Phil, can you take a stroll into the '90s, please? We are three Black men on the side of a mountain road. The only people that's going to stop is going to have on sheets and saying stuff like, "Get them, Jim Bob."

Philip: Will, we're going to have to turn that money over to the authorities. If nobody claims it, then you can keep it, but until then, I think I should look after it.
Will: Whoa, no! I'm all right, Uncle Phil. You know, I'll just find a safe place to keep it, you know, just for the night. Goodnight, Abe. Goodnight, Alexander. And I can't forget you, Ben. Oh, man, I'm sleeping with the presidents. Must be what Marilyn Monroe felt like.

Will: You know, Uncle Phil, now, I haven't been on too many camping trips but snow is a bad thing, right?
Philip: Look. Let's look on the bright side, okay? This will give us a perfect opportunity to pull together and show what we're made of.
Will: Does Bigfoot have to come down here with a chain saw before you admit we're in trouble?