Quotessence
Home / Topics / Rambo Quotes

Rambo Quotes

Browse 40 quotes about Rambo.

Rambo Quotes

“Eddie Murphy recalled his last conversation with Sylvester Stallone – they haven’t spoken since: “He thought I fucked his wife. He heard the rumor that me and Brigitte [Nielsen] behaved less than professionally together (while making Beverly Hills Cop II), and he believed it. He came after me and said, ‘YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!’ I said, ‘Down, brother, I didn’t fuck your wife!’ We talked about it, but I guess somewhere in the back of his head, he’s convinced himself he’ll never really know the truth. Sly and I liked each other, too, but after the weirdness with Brigitte, it was ruined. I didn’t fuck her. Did I ever want to fuck Gitte? No, she’s not my type. She was married. And married to somebody who was my friend. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Gary said almost eagerly. He was sick of bullies pushing him around. “You are going to walk in by yourself and fish for as much information as you can get before they try to kill you,” Gregori answered. “Try. I hope that’s the operative word,” Gary said nervously. “Try to kill me.” “You will not have to worry about yourself,” Gregori informed him, his voice utterly confident. “But it is necessary that the police do not come looking for you. That means no dead bodies in your room.” “Right, messy. If I have vampires and nut cases from the society hunting me, we don’t need the cops, too,” Gary admitted. He was sweating now, his palms so wet he kept rubbing them on his jeans. “Do not worry so much.” Gregori flashed a smile meant to reassure, the one that left vivid images of open graves. “I will be with you every step of the way. You might even have fun playing Rambo.” “He had a big gun,” Gary pointed out. “’ m going up there with my bare hands. I think it might be pertinent to say I’ve never won a single fistfight. I’ve been put in trash cans and toilets and had my face rubbed in the dirt. I’m no good in a fight.” “I am,” Gregori said softly, his hand suddenly on Gary’s shoulder. It was the first time Gary could remember the Carpathian voluntarily touching him out of camaraderie. “Gary is saying all these things, chérie, yet he intended to go up against a man brandishing a knife with only his lab jacket for protection.” Gary blushed a fiery red. “You know why I was in the lab,” he reminded Gregori, ashamed. “I made a tranquilizer that works on your blood, and they turned it into a poison of some kind. We’ve got to do something about that. If something goes wrong tonight, and they get me, all my notes on the formula are in my laptop, too.” “This is beginning more and more to sound like a bad movie.” Gregori sighed. “Come on, you two amateurs.” He was impassive on the outside, but he couldn’t help laughing on the inside. “Do not worry about the formula. I allowed one of the members to inject me with it, so we know its components and are working on an antidote now.” “It didn’t work?” Gary was appalled. He had spent a tremendous amount of time on that formula. Although Morrison and his crew had perverted it, he was still disappointed. “You cannot have it both ways, Gary.” Exasperated, Gregori gave him a little shove toward the entrance to the hotel. “You should not want the damn thing to work.” “Hey, my reputation is on the line.” “So was mine. I neutralized the poison.” Gregori nudged him again. “Get moving.”

“A block from his hotel, Gary cleared his throat. “I thought you said going back to my room might be dangerous.” “Life is dangerous, Gary,” Gregori said softly. “You are Rambo, remember?” Savannah’s laughter rang out, rivaling the jazz quartet playing on the corner. Heads turned to listen to her, then to watch her, stealing away the attention of the audience gathered in a loose semi-circle around the quartet. She moved in the human world, completely comfortable in it, a part of it. Gregori had walked unseen, and that was how he preferred it. She was dragging him into her world. He could hardly believe he was walking down a crowded street with a mortal with half the block staring openly at them. “I didn’t know you knew who Rambo was,” Savannah said, trying not to giggle. She couldn’t imagine Gregori in a theater watching a Rambo movie. “You saw a Rambo flick?” Gary was incredulous. Gregori made a sound somewhere between contempt and derision. “I read Gary’s memories on the subject. Interesting. Silly, but interesting.” He glanced at Gary. “This is your hero?” Gary’s grin was as mischievous as Savannah’s. “Until I met you, Gregori.” Gregori growled, a low rumble of menace. His two companions just laughed disrespectfully, not in the least intimidated. “I’ll bet he’s a secret Rambo fan,” Savannah whispered confidentially. Gary nodded. “He probably sneaks into movie theaters for every old showing.”

“Rambo only exists in the movies.”

“I do find violence entertaining, but that doesn't make me a bad person. I grew up watching all these action films when I was a kid. My dad would bring back 'Rambo' and whatever, and we'd watch it together. It's not affected me in any way other than I just appreciate the entertainment value of violence on film.”

“The idea of Rambo is kind of intriguing as a closing chapter. When you shoot a film as a sequel to do another sequel it's a whole other tone. But when you know it's the final chapter you try and put in there as much emotion, understanding and closure as you can. So, whereas Rocky is a lighter character and optimistic, Rambo is much darker.”

“We all grew up in that era. I'm a little younger than these guys [Will Forte and John Solomon], but I would say all of us are huge fans of the original "MacGyver" series, and obviously we found that inspiration for the original pitch for MacGruber. We took his name and made it stupid. In terms of the inspiration for the movie, that really came from our love for late '80s/early '90s action movies - the whole "Lethal Weapon" series and "Rambo" and "Die Hard," every single [Arnold] Schwarzenegger and [Sylvester] Stallone film.”

“I wasn't trying to write a corrective novel - that would just end up tasting like medicine, and I tried to stay away from polemics as best I could. I think that, if anything, Fobbit is my way of showing readers there's another side to war - the backstage of combat, if you will. If you play a word association game with Americans and say "war," what's the first thing that comes to mind? Soldiers running across a battlefield through a hail of bullets, right? Rambo, smoke, explosions. In Fobbit, I hope readers will see something a little different”

“What was nice about the nineties is that it was an example of music that responded to a desire of the times. It spoke to the social conditions of the times. Women were making more money. Women were saying, "My voice counts. If we're going out on a Friday night, I don't want to see a Rambo movie. I want to go see a singer/songwriter who sings about my life".”

“I took the stool next to him, raising an eyebrow at the coffee and cruller on the counter. "Thought you weren't into internal pollution," I said. Lately Ranger'd been on a health food thing. "Props," Ranger told me. "Didn't want to look out of place." I didn't want to burst his fantasy bubble, but the only time Ranger wouldn't look out of place would be standing in a lineup between Rambo and Batman.”