The Judge Quotes

Hank Palmer: Why'd you pull me out of Boy Scouts?
Judge Joseph Palmer: As punishment for blowing up the McCraw's mailbox with M80s.
Hank Palmer: I was 13. *That* you remember. *That*!
Judge Joseph Palmer: Oh, old enough to know better.
Hank Palmer: You didn't come to my high school

graduation or college. Why?
Judge Joseph Palmer: [Overlapping] Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. "Why?" Jail time, truancy, I don't get to reward anything! None of your shit!
Hank Palmer: I graduated from *law school*, for Christ's sake.
Judge Joseph Palmer: As opposed to what? Dropping out?
Hank Palmer: Fuck you!

Judge Joseph Palmer: Let me tell you something, okay? I put a roof over your head, money in your pocket, clothes on your back... *food* in your *mouth*! Who paid for that college education? I never showed up to kiss your ass, but your mother? She's a house wife! Why couldn't you swallow your God damned pride and just come home to her? You tell me why!
Hank

Palmer: [On the verge of tears] You know, you'd invite people at the end of their parole back to court... You'd *recognize* those who did their time, turned their lives around, made something of themselves. Everyone in the court applauded, and you made sure they did! Tell them how *proud* you were... Proud of *fucking* strangers!
Judge Joseph Palmer: Is that all

you wanted, Henry, was a kind word? An 'atta boy? Then to use your words, you should have *come* the *fuck* home! We all waited, *quietly*, but you never came. Okay? And I was the one she'd blame, because you wouldn't come home. Me. Now, was I tough on you? Yes. How'd you turn out, Henry? Waiting tables? A bum?
Hank Palmer: You put me in Juvenile Detention... you sent me to

fucking Vanderburgh!
Judge Joseph Palmer: [Interrupting] No, no, no, no, no, you put yourself there.
Hank Palmer: Did I?
Judge Joseph Palmer: Yes.
Hank Palmer: The prosecutor recommended community service. That was *your* call!
Judge Joseph Palmer: No, no, no, it wouldn't have

*helped* you!
Hank Palmer: I didn't need *help*, I needed *you*!
Judge Joseph Palmer: You were high, you rolled a car with your brother in it! He had a major league career ahead of him, a 90 mile-an-hour fast ball, and he runs a turnip shop! You crippled him, you stole his future, and you call *me* an ass hole?
Hank Palmer:

What do you want from me? I was 17 when that happened. I was *17*.
Judge Joseph Palmer: Oooh, "I was 13, I was 17." You were headed down the wrong path! I did what I thought was right.
Hank Palmer: [Holding back tears] You know, I didn't just graduate from law school, I graduated first in my class... I was *first* in my class... I did *really* well,

dad.
Judge Joseph Palmer: You're welcome.
[Walks out of the room]
Hank Palmer: [Grits his teeth and clenches his fist; he sits at the kitchen table, speaking in a barely audible voice] Fuck... Damn this house... God damn this *fucking* house...

Hank Palmer: I don't buy it. It can't be the first time someone's insulted you. It's your job. Why did you go easy on him the first time? Of all the judges in Indiana, the one with the tightest... You gave him 30 days. He threatened her, discharged a firearm at her residence.That's six months. A year. Easy. What was your reasoning? A hundred and 80 days, that's solid. Maybe he'd

have cooled off. Maybe he doesn't kill Hope. Maybe we're not here. Of all the years you sat on that bench... all the people that stood before you, the leniency... the understanding, the free ride goes to Mark Blackwell? How do you explain that lapse in judgment?
Judge Joseph Palmer: I looked at him and saw you. Same willful disobedience... same recklessness. I looked at him

and saw my middle son.My little boy. My little boy. I watched him cry right there. I wanted to put my arms around him and tell him it didn't have to be like this. I wanted someone to help him... like I'd want someone to help my boy... if he lost his way. It was my chance to be... that someone. Is that so much to ask? Maybe so. Maybe so.
Hank Palmer: I have memories. Of us.

You, me. Then I don't. How come? Why?
Judge Joseph Palmer: Why? Why? I looked at you and I saw him.
[Hank closes his eyes and a tear fell]
Judge Joseph Palmer: [the judge closed his eyes in despair]

Dwight Dickham: You're a shined up wooden nickel, Mr Palmer. A bully with a bag of tricks. But unlike you, I have one simple belief. That the law is the only thing that's capable of making people equal. Now you may think that Mark Blackwell is white trash, and he may very well have been. But in the eyes of the state, his life matters. I'm going to impale your client on a first

degree murder charge. And you get a front row seat.

Samantha Powell: Dammit, Hank. I loved you then and I love you now. I do. I love how you are simultaneously the most selfish and the most generous person I know. I love how you hate a bully while being one. But your constant second-guessing of others, that crystal-ball bullshit? That hyperverbal vocabulary-vomit thing that you do? I disappeared around you, Hank.

Hank Palmer: Say it again.
Samantha Powell: All of it?

Hank Palmer: Tell me what happened.
Judge Joseph Palmer: I don't remember.
Hank Palmer: Because you were drunk?
Judge Joseph Palmer: No, because I *can't* remember. Don't you think I *want* to remember? I *can't*! For all I know, I never hit any thing or any body!
Hank Palmer: So, I was

in the liquor cabinet. What kind of recovering alcoholic keeps his dark, liquor cabinet?
Judge Joseph Palmer: No, no, no, no, *recovered*. It's a reminder that I'm stronger, it holds no power over me.
Hank Palmer: Right now, that cop Hanson is on his way to the mini-mart, to ask some scared shitless high school clerk with half a joint in his front

pocket... if you had the odour of an alcoholic beverage on your breath! Did you?
Judge Joseph Palmer: No.
Hank Palmer: Bloodshot eyes.
Judge Joseph Palmer: No!
Hank Palmer: Slurred speech?
Judge Joseph Palmer: *No!*
Dale Palmer: [Hank slams the breaks on

his car and backs into the driveway. Glenn and Dale look on, fully aware of the tension rising between the two despite not being in the car with them] They shouldn't drive together.

Hank Palmer: [addressing crowd of ruffians] Possession of a controlled substance? Domestic violence? That's you. You all right, honey? What other random myriad of fucking misdemeanors is gonna come to light while you're drawing out in the slammer? Failure to appear? Bench warrants? Come on. And because I'm the only one that actually isn't driving with a suspended license, I'll be

driving your gals home. So who lives closer? Uh, bad skin muffin-top, or Red Bull semen breath?
[a brief scuffle]
Redneck: Asshole!
Hank Palmer: Throw that punch. You like County food?