Ricky Bobby: Well, I’m the best there is. Plain and simple, when I wake up in the morning I piss excellence.
Ricky Bobby: From now on, it’s Magic Man and El Diablo.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: What does El Diablo mean?
Ricky Bobby: It’s like Spanish for like a fighting chicken.
Ricky Bobby: I wanna thank little baby Jesus, who’s sittin’ in his crib watchin the Baby Einstein videos, learnin’ ’bout shapes and colors.
Jean Girard: My husband Gregory and I want what any couple wants. To retire to Stockholm and develop a currency for dogs and cats to use.
Race Announcer: Ricky Bobby appears to be unhurt, but that Wonder Bread car is toast.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: I like to think of Jesus as an Ice Dancer, dressed in an all-white jumpsuit, and doing an interpretive dance of my life.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: I like to picture Jesus in a tuxedo T-Shirt because it says I want to be formal, but I’m here to party.
Ricky Bobby: I’m just a big hairy American winning machine, you know?
Reese Bobby: Yep, I guess things are just about perfect… it’s making me feel kind of itchy.
Ricky Bobby: How ’bout we go get kicked out of an Applebee’s?
PA Announcer: Girard is sitting on the pole, which is a statement of fact and in no way a comment on his sexual orientation.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: I like to think of Jesus as a mischievous badger.
Ricky Bobby: Wait, Dad. Don’t you remember the time you told me “If you ain’t first, you’re last”?
Reese Bobby: Huh? What are you talking about, Son?
Ricky Bobby: That day at school.
Reese Bobby: Oh hell, Son, I was high that day. That doesn’t make any sense at all, you can be second, third, fourth… hell you can even be fifth.
Ricky Bobby: What? I’ve lived my whole life by that!
Cal Naughton, Jr.: Shake and bake!
Jean Girard: Is that a catchphrase or epilepsy?
Ricky Bobby: I’ve sent in my application to the Real World. So I’m hoping to hear back from that. I’m putting a lot of my eggs into that basket, the MTV basket. I’m also thinking about getting a gun, and dealing crack. Being a crack dealer. Not like a mean crack dealer, but like… like a nice one. Kinda friendly like, “hey, what’s up guys? Want some crack?” I’m just waiting on those two things to flesh themselves out.
Jean Girard: Will you be my… Katie Couric?
Ricky Bobby: Holding hands with a man makes me terribly uncomfortable.
Jean Girard: It’s a sign of affection in many countries.
Ricky Bobby: Well, not here.
Jean Girard: It is not sexual in any way. My erection has nothing to do with you.
Jean Girard: You taste of America.
Ricky Bobby: Thank you.
Susan: It’s because it’s what you love, Ricky. It is who you were born to be. And here you sit. Thinking. Well, Ricky Bobby is not a thinker. Ricky Bobby is a driver. He is a doer, and that’s what you need to do. You don’t need to think. You need to drive. You need speed. You need to go out there, and you need to rev your engine. You need to fire it up. You need to grab ahold of that line between speed and chaos, and you need to wrestle it to the ground like a demon cobra. And then, when the fear rises up in your belly, you use it. And you know that fear is powerful, because it has been there for billions of years. And it is good. And you use it. And you ride it; you ride it like a skeleton horse through the gates of hell, and then you win, Ricky. You WIN! And you don’t win for anybody else. You win for you, you know why? Because a man takes what he wants. He takes it all. And you’re a man, aren’t you? Aren’t you?
Ricky Bobby: Susan, I’ve never heard you talk like that… Are we about to get it on? Because I’m as hard as a diamond in an ice storm right now.
Ricky Bobby: If you ain’t first, you’re last!
Texas Ranger: My teacher asked me what was the capital of North Carolina. I said Washington D.C. She said No. You’re wrong. And I said well you got a lumpy butt. Then I peed in my pants.
Chip: Are you just going to let your sons talk to their grandfather like this?
Ricky Bobby: Hell yes I am! They are winners! That is how winners talk!
Carley Bobby: If we wanted two little girls, we would have named them Dr. Quinn and Medicine Woman!
Ricky Bobby: Dear Lord baby Jesus, we thank you so much for this bountiful harvest of Dominos, KFC, and the always delicious Taco Bell. I just want to take time to say thank you for my family. My two sons, Walker, and Texas Ranger, or TR as we call him. And of course my red hot smokin’ wife Carley, who is a stone cold fox.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: mmm-mmm…
Ricky Bobby: Dear tiny infant Jesus…
Carley Bobby: Hey, um… you know sweetie, Jesus did grow up. You don’t always have to call him baby. It’s a bit odd and off puttin’ to pray to a baby.
Ricky Bobby: Well look, I like the Christmas Jesus best, and I’m sayin grace. When you say grace, you can say it to grown up Jesus, or teenage Jesus, or bearded Jesus, or whatever you want.