Hoffa: What do I want? I want you to kill the cocksucker! I want you to stuff his arms up his ass, that's what I fucking want!
[While handcuffed] Bobby Ciaro: I can't even scratch myself. Hoffa: Do you itch? Bobby Ciaro: No. Hoffa: Then what the fuck are you complaining for?
Bobby Ciaro: He wants to know what you're scared of. Hoffa: Tell him it's none of his fucking business.
Jimmy Hoffa: Never let a stranger in your cab, in your house or in your heart... unless he is a friend of labor.
Frank Fitzsimmons: I'm gonna go and get laid. Come with me. Hoffa: Ahh, I'm busy. You go get laid.
Hoffa: If a guy's close to you, you can't slight 'im. You can't slight that guy. A real grievance can be resolved; differences can be resolved. But an imaginary hurt, a slight -- that motherfucker gonna hate you 'til the day he dies.
Hoffa: Someone oughtta shoot that motherfucker! Let 'im organize the dead!
Hoffa: What do I want you to do? I want you to kill the cocksucker! I want you to stuff his arms up his ass, that's what I fuckin' want!
Hoffa: They been feeding ya dogshit! Been telling ya it's Cream of Wheat!
Bobby Ciaro: There's a time to shirk, and a time to work.
Hoffa: I'm gonna give ya a piece of advice. Don't ask for something if it's a burden to ya if ya get it.