Charles: Carbon paper in the safe, what brilliant foresight. In only two million years, it will turn into diamonds.
Klinger: Facetious, but erroneous.

Charles: Charles Emerson Winchester, defender of the downtrodden.
Hawkeye: You do all the trodding, that's how they got down.

Charles: Colonel, what's the point in bearing a grudge?
Potter: Glad to see you using some common sense.
Charles: What possible benefit could I derive from becoming angry over the impending arrival of the cretin that banished me to this flea hatchery?
Potter: You are using common sense, aren't you?
Charles: Just because I was forced to surrender the delights of Tokyo, where I could indulge in kabuki, and octopus.
Potter: Winchester, you're letting that goat of yours get got again.
Charles: Have you ever savored the epicurean delight of fresh octopus?
Potter: I don't care for any food that hangs onto the plate when you pick it up.
Charles: The injustice of it all to banish me to this vermin preserve just to avoid paying the 600 dollars he lost to me in a cribbage game. Ergo when he arrives I shall perform surgery on the first organ that presents itself.
Potter: Major I got a hospital to run and I don't want Baldwin in it.
Charles: Oh sir this might be the only chance I have to savor the sweet fruit of revenge. I swear by all that is holy on Beacon Hill, I shall get even.
Potter: Major, ten-hut! I need a volunteer to stay away from Baldwin and your it! (Charles tries to argue) About face! Forward Skedaddle!
Charles: The last laugh has yet to be laughed Colonel.

Charles: Do you happen to have a quarter?
Hawkeye: All this for a quarter?
Charles: I have to pry off the cover.
BJ: 'Course, cover charge.

Charles: Do you two realize that you are singing two entirely different operas and they're both out of tune?
Hawkeye: Don't blame me, I didn't write this stuff.

Charles: I am sorry to wake you sir but I am in the direst of straits.
Potter: (Still asleep but being led to his office) Straight. My full house beats that.

Charles: I will put this as eloquently and succinctly as possible...(tries to pours tea but a plastic chicken is in the pitcher) ...Get me the hell out of here!

Charles: I would operate in Braille if my fingers weren't frozen.
Hawkeye (imitating Charles' accent): Sorry Charles, we're all out of fur-lined rubber gloves.

Charles: I'm afraid there is the possibility--slim though it be--that I...snore.
Mulcahy: Snore. Oh. Good heavens, Major. What...courage it took to admit that.
Charles: Well, Father, I'm afraid you don't understand. See, all my life I've harbored a secret dread that I may not be worthy of my name, that I may not good enough to be a Winchester. What if all this malarkey is true, that I do...snore like a common factory worker. What if that's just the tip of the iceberg? What if there are even more vulgar traits lurking just underneath the surface? Today...snoring. Tomorrow, sitting in front of a TV with a cold brew watching roller derby. What if--perish the thought--I am actually the same as everybody else? I couldn't live with that.

Charles: I've talked to everyone in the camp - which, by the way, is a first for me - and no one saw or heard a thing. A fact confirmed by our ever-vigilant sentries and their seeing-eye dogs.

Charles: If I don't find a way to hear some music soon, I'm gonna lose what is left of my mind.
BJ: Why don't you ask Margaret to let you play your records on her new record player?
Charles: I'd sooner share my toothbrush with a Democrat.
BJ: Maybe you could go over to the O-Club and play 'em on the jukebox. Nobody there this early.
Charles: That is tantamount to asking Michelangelo to paint the ceiling of Woolworth's.

Charles: In order to have a criminal mentality, one must first have a mentality.

Charles: Just a minute! You handle our food and dig latrines?
Igor: Don't worry, sir. I always wash my hands before I dig the latrines.

Charles: Keep your grimy hands on the wheel.
Radar: Look I'm sorry Major, the tires won't stay on the road.

Charles: Must you always spout Scripture, Father?
Father Mulcahy: I'm afraid it's an occupational hazard.