— Why do you let those boys push you around like that for?
— They're bigger than me.
— Stand tall. Have some respect for yourself. If you let people walk over you now, they'll walk over you the rest of your life. Look at me. You think I'll spend my life in this slop house?
— Watch it, Goldie.
— No, sir! I'll do something. I'll go to night school. One day, I'm going to be somebody.
— That's right. He's going to be mayor.
— Yeah, I'm... Mayor! Now that's a good idea! I could run for mayor.
— A colored mayor. That'll be the day.
— Wait and see. I will be mayor. I'll be the most powerful man in Hill Valley and I'm going to clean up this town.
— Good. You can start by sweeping the floor.
— Which one's your pop?
— That's him.
— Maybe you were adopted?
— That's John F. Kennedy Drive.
— Who the hell is John F. Kennedy?
— Quiet. I'm going to read your thoughts. Let's see now. You come here from a great distance?
— Yeah. Exactly.
— Don't tell me! You want me to subscribe to the «Saturday Evening Post».
— No.
— Not a word now! Quiet. Donations. You want me to make a donation to the «Coast Guard Youth Auxiliary».
— Doc... I'm from the future. I came here in a time machine that you invented. Now, I need your help to get back to the year 1985.
— My God! Do you know what this means? It means that this damn thing doesn't work at all!
— Doc, look. All we need is a little plutonium.
— I'm sure that in 1985 plutonium is available in every corner drugstore, but in 1955, it's a little hard to come by.
— You're a slacker. You remind me of your father when he went here. He was a slacker, too.
— Can I go now, Mr. Strickland?
— Your band is on the roster for the dance auditions after school today. Why even bother? You don't have a chance. You're too much like your old man. No McFly ever amounted to anything in the history of Hill Valley.
— Yeah, well, history is going to change.
One shouldn't know about his own destiny. If I know too much I endanger my own existence just as you've endangered yours.
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