Henry Blake: Will you stop saying what I’m thinking? Radar: One of us has to.
Frank: I’m taking this to a higher authority. Trapper: Aw, Frank… you’re not going to write your mother again.
Frank: This is the last straw! Hawkeye: Remind me to order more straws.
Frank: The men hate me, don’t they? Radar: Just your guts, sir.
Frank: Why don’t you guys like me? Hawkeye: Because you’re a lousy doctor and a rotten person. Frank: Aside from that. B.J.: Well, there’s your pimples.
Henry Blake: Will you stop saying what I’m thinking? Radar: One of us has to.
Frank: I’m taking this to a higher authority. Trapper: Aw, Frank… you’re not going to write your mother again.
Frank: This is the last straw! Hawkeye: Remind me to order more straws.
Frank: The men hate me, don’t they? Radar: Just your guts, sir.
Frank: Why don’t you guys like me? Hawkeye: Because you’re a lousy doctor and a rotten person. Frank: Aside from that. B.J.: Well, there’s your pimples.