Radar: I don't think this place is turning out to be that great an experience for me. I mean I work under terrible pressure and everything and there's a lot of death and destruction and stuff but outside of that I don't think I'm really getting much out of it.

Radar: I'll be going to jail in my puberty and not coming out until my adultery.

Radar: Oh sir, thank goodness you're here, or else I wouldn't have found you here.

Radar: Sir there was just a Korean in here.
Frank: This country is crawling with Koreans. You can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Korean.

Radar: That's a bear we all have to cross.

Radar: The friendly old sun showed his friendly hot face over the mountains of purple majesty as though he was salutating "Good morning to all." Alas, alack, the peaceful quietness was detonated by a herd of chopper transportizing punctured personnel. But our gallant doctors, the miracle medical mortals are ever ready to treat the sick. The wounded were aided copiously by super-smart surgeons whose knowledge is superseded by nobody I know. Together or apart, they work as a team. Skilled hands with their fingers work dedicatedly to keep death away from its maximum.
Potter: Radar what is this cow flubdubbery? All this "miracle medical mortals" hooey. What are you doing to my duty log?
Radar: I was just adding a hint of self-expression.

Radar: The sun in it's crimson radiance bids a crepuscular adieu to another day. Corporal Klinger was in his last grisly hour of guard duty little knowing the fate that destiny had planned up for him. The Chinese were giving up in hordes. Sergeant Fierman brought in three prisoners that he had captured after they had surrendered voluntarily. The sergeant bragadeered to Corporal Klinger that capturing prisoners meant points toward discharge and early homeward bounding. This information inspired Klinger a whole lot. The vainglorious corporal ran like a bird and sped off in quest of Chinese giver-uppers. But destiny exterminated his luck. The Chinese had not seen women in an overexcited period of time. Klinger barely escaped with his purity still clean and in the process, ruining his finest frockery. The corporal re-arrived with his dignity dented and his nonchalantness not so nifty.
Potter: Enough, boy! Enough! This whole unit is gonna get a Section Eight!

Radar: They aren't gonna like this.
Frank: I didn't come here to be liked.
Radar: You certainly came to the right place.

Radar: Uh, sir, if you're thirsty. Compliments of Colonel Blake. Scotch. Gin. Vodka. And for your convenience all in the same bottle.

Radar: We're really up the river without a creek.

Radar:And to top it all off, my Nehi is warm.

Reporter: EEG?
Hawkeye: Yeah, electroencephalogram.
Reporter: How do you spell that?
Hawkeye: I personally spell it EEG.

Rizzo: Hey, Father, can I make a confession?
Mulcahy: Certainly, Sergeant.
Rizzo: I murdered somebody...tomorrow.
Klinger: C'mon, I'm trying to help!
Rizzo: You wanna help? Die on your own.

Rizzo: Now you gentlemens are new to the Army, or in other words, dumb. When you leave here, you will know this jeep like it was a kissin' cousin, and you will know the rules of the road so good that when you're dead, you will still qualify for a license.

Rizzo: The Army is a breeze, once you get the hang of the Luther Rizzo secret of military success.
Klinger: What is it?
Rizzo: Never smile.
Klinger: Huh?
Rizzo: The Army hates to see a man grin. Makes them think they've failed somehow. But moan and groan and carry on, they'll leave you to your lonesome; long as they know you're miserable, they're happy.
Season 9