Kaffee: It was oregano, Dave, it was ten dollars worth of oregano.
Spradling: Yeah, well your client thought it was marijuana.
Kaffee: My client’s a moron, that’s not against the law.

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Kaffee: You gotta trust me, Sherby. You keep your eyes open, your chances of catching the ball increase by a factor of ten.

Kaffee: Commander, from what I understand, if this thing goes to court, they won’t need a lawyer, they’ll need a priest.
Jo: No. They’ll need a lawyer.

Jo: Tell your friend not to get cute down there. The marines in Guantanimo are fanatical.
Sam: About what?
Jo: About being marines.

Joe: I don’t think you’re fit to handle this defense.
Kaffee: You don’t even know me. Ordinarily it takes someone hours to discover I’m not fit to handle a defense.

Jo: You went to Harvard Law on a Navy scholarship, probably because that’s what your father wanted you to do, and now you’re just treading water for the three years you’ve gotta serve in the JAG Corps, just kinda layin’ low til you can get out and get a real job. And if that’s the situation, that’s fine. I won’t tell anyone. But my feeling is that if this case is handled in the same fast-food, slick-ass, Persian Bazaar manner with which you seem to handle everything else, something’s gonna get missed. And I wouldn’t be doing my job if I allowed Dawson and Downey to spend any more time in prison than absolutely necessary, because their attorney had pre-determined the path of least resistance.