Hawk: Nice toss, bud. How you feeling?
Jackson: Did your friend tell you?
Hawk: Yeah. Don't do that again. I hear you're a poet.
Jackson: He tell you that, too?
Hawk: He did. Question is why you didn't.
Jackson: You'd think it's stupid, and it probably is.
Hawk: It isn't. I'd like to read some of your writing. If you'd let me. Jackson. Do you know that I love you? I do. I love you beyond measure. I'm not gonna tell your mom about the acid or the other stuff. Just... Do better, okay? Okay?

Frankie: I don't have a lot of time. Come in. How's your father?
Marcus: He's hanging on. I'll be there as long as he needs me.
Frankie: And then?
Marcus: Go back on the road. Chicago, Detroit, then down South. I wanna see if anything's changed in this country since Dr. King's murder. If anything's ever gonna change. When do you leave for San Francisco?
Frankie: Day after tomorrow.
Marcus: (singing) Be sure to wear...
Frankie: A flower in my hair. Baby, I'm gonna be wearing nothing but flowers. Marcus: How about a kiss goodbye?
Frankie: I don't like goodbyes. And you said goodbye a long time ago.
Marcus: How about a kiss, then?
Frankie: Marcus. Marcus, Marcus.
[Marcus hugs Frankie.]
Frankie: Guess we're both growing up.
Marcus: I feel like I'm 100 years old.

Lucy: Are you the only one who matters?
Hawk: What?
Lucy: Your children are here, I'm here. How dare you bring that man into our lives?
Hawk: Look, it doesn't mean anything.
Lucy: Don't insult my intelligence. He's on the run from the law.
Hawk: He's not a criminal, he's an activist.
Lucy: He's wanted by the police, and you helped him hide, Hawk! Do you know what you've risked? All we've built together, your career, my life, our children's lives. You married me. If you can't give me all your love, give me enough respect to keep whatever this is out of our home.

Dear Hawk, I went into the Army to get away from you. I thought time and distance would help. But it hasn't. Hawk, I still love you. But I'm hoping to find something else. Maybe a deeper faith someday. Tim.


Schine: Roy.
Cohn: He probably is a Jew hater. They're all Jew haters until they need us. Schine: You need to look at this.
Cohn: What? Oh, I'll be damned.
Schine: Uh, what does it mean?
Cohn: It means this is a time of nachas, Dave. A time of nachas indeed. That stupid, alcoholic fat Mick isn't gonna fire Roy Cohn, and Gerard David Schine is not goin' to Korea. Oh. Kick off your shoes and crack open the brandy, Dave. We're not going anywhere.

Hawk: Maggie said we have to keep your weight up. Pasta.
Tim: What else?
Hawk: Peanut butter.
Tim: They didn't have crunchy?
Hawk: No, I looked.
Tim: You said you know someone connected to the governor.
Hawk: Dave Holm. He's a Republican fundraiser.
Tim: Okay, how well do you know him?
Hawk: Not well. You know, he's...
Tim: What, he's straight? The way that you're straight? You can't smoke in here.
Hawk: I know, I know. What do you want, Tim?
Tim: Call your friend. Ask him. Convince him to set up a meeting with the governor's chief of staff.
Hawk: And why am I doing this?
Tim: To introduce me. There is an AIDS anti-discrimination bill sitting on the governor's desk. I need to convince him to sign it. We've been waiting for this meeting for weeks. They're ignoring us. They can't ignore you.
Hawk: Of course they can.

Mary: They're going to ask you questions about your private activities in detail. Hawk: I hope they've scheduled several hours for that.
Mary: I thought you were taking this seriously.
Hawk: I am.
Mary: You take nothing seriously. You're all wrong for him, Fuller. He is deeply sincere, and you're going to hurt him.
Miss Addison: I know who you're talking about. The boy who gave Mr. Fuller that book? Yeah, I saw what he wrote inside. "Mr. Fuller, thank you for everything. You're wonderful."
Mary: You reported him.
Hawk: You're right, Miss Addison. I am wonderful. So why don't you just suffer? Merry Christmas.

Hawk: The gentleman who left the unit last week, he stepped in front of a truck. That must affect someone in your position.
Man: Unfortunately, we're seeing an average of one suicide per week.
Hawk: You ever worry that someone might kill you instead?
Man: One moment. You'll have to return tomorrow for a polygraph.
Hawk: No, that won't be necessary. Just speak to Mr. McLeod.
Man: When we believe a polygraph is required, cooperation is mandatory. We're trying to clear the backlog before the holidays. Can you come back tomorrow after hours?
Hawk: Sure.

They said they were gonna tell my mother what I was. I begged them not to. She was sick. They told her anyway. She never looked at me again.


Hawk: They know you?
Tim: I worked here. Before.
Hawk: You said your sister needs a break. I nursed my kids through measles, mumps. Broken arms. Hawk.
Tim: No.
Hawk: How long would she need?
Tim: No. No. It's not a good idea.
Hawk: How long? What, a week? I can do that. Skippy, just... Will you give me a chance?
Tim: A chance to do what? To... To fŐ˝ck it up again. Are you sure?
Hawk: No. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

Hawk: Listen, Skippy. I wanna spend the weekend with you. Go back to the office, tell Dragon Lady you don't feel well. Meet me on the southwest corner of Independence and Third in 15 minutes.
Tim: Fifteen?
Hawk: Green Ford. Oh, and happy birthday.

Frankie: I don't mean to sound like a prima donna, but where am I?
Marcus: I know.
Frankie: The bouncer called us fags. You forget that?
Marcus: Frankie... That's not a fight I can win right now. No editor would run that story. I'll always be a colored man first. It's all folks see.
Frankie: When I was a kid, no one noticed me. Which was a good thing, because when they noticed me, it was with a curse, or a smack or a shove. But the first time I went full drag to a club, in a cheap Halloween wig and a borrowed poodle skirt... people noticed. They looked at me.
Marcus: I'm lookin' at you.