Management: I know that you are capable of making such a choice. Capable of saying this one deserves to live, this one deserves to die.
Ben: No, that ain't my place.
Management: If that is true, my friend, then why is such a choice possible? Why are you not like other men, left behind to bury your dead, to gnash your teeth and cry out to God, "Why her, Lord? Why not another?" The answer is self-evident. It is your place, Ben Hawkins. It cannot be escaped. It can only be accepted.
Ben: God takes what's His. Man don't take it back.
Samson: Talk to the man?
Samson: What'd he say?
Ben: He said he's, he got some answers for me. Said him and me...we're alike.
Samson: Is that a fact? Say anything else?
Ben: Told me how I can help someone.
Samson: But there's a price. And who's gonna pay that price? Look, I don't know what it is you have to do and I don't care. I do know what kind of games Management plays. He don't care much for people. Like pieces moving around on a board. But these people around here mean more than that to me. Whatever it is you gotta do, you make sure it happens to somebody else. Somebody who don't matter. Somebody who won't be missed. Someone more like you. There ain't nothing good happened since you've come here. Not for us, not for you.
Stumpy: It's a hell of marriage we got here.
Rita Sue: I wouldn't trade it.
Stumpy: Wouldn't be any traders.
Ben: (While strangling Lodz) You take a good look you son of a b****.