Tommy Gibbs: That used to be home, sweet home, Pa. Top window. Rear
Mr. Gibbs: Always seemed to me like a much bigger building.
Tommy Gibbs: You must know what I do for a living.
Mr. Gibbs: I'm not gonna lecture you. I don't have the right.
Tommy Gibbs: Did it ever occur to you... That I've been waiting 25 years just to kill you?
Mr. Gibbs: No. No. Wait, listen please. I mean, it was the depression. I mean, you don't know what it was like to... Then the war and my chance to get away. You never had those responsibilities. I mean, you never been trapped. Oh, no. Not knowing where to run or who to-- or who to hate. I was 20 years old, 20 years old when I enlisted. And I was a cook all through the war. I was a cook!
Tommy Gibbs: You never sent home one allotment check. My ma had to scrub floors on her hands and knees for pennies!
[pins his father against a wall pointing his gun at him]
Tommy Gibbs: I'm gonna kill you!
Mr. Gibbs: She-- she couldn't get no allotment! We wasn't married legal! Folks didn't bother much in those days.
Tommy Gibbs: [lowers his gun and turns away] She never told me.
Mr. Gibbs: I--I could have sent you something.
Tommy Gibbs: Go on. Start walkin.'
Mr. Gibbs: I didn't mean to break it to you that way. I mean, I wouldn't have said anything...
Tommy Gibbs: Don't matter. Move on, before I change my mind. Pa! I don't ever want to see you again.
Mr. Gibbs: I understand, son.
Reverend Rufus: What are you going to do now? Kill your momma?
