Phil: Let me ask you guys a question. What if there were no tomorrow?
Gus: No tomorrow? That would mean there’d be no consequences...no hangovers...we could do whatever we wanted!
Phil: That’s true. We could do...what ever we want!(runs over the mailbox)
Gus: Hey Phil, if we wanted to hit mailboxes we couldlet Ralph drive...
(police cars are now chasing them)
Phil: It's the same thing your whole life: Clean up your room. Stand up straight. Pick up your feet. Take it like a man. Be nice to your sister. Don't mix beer and wine, ever. Oh yeah: Don't drive on the railroad track! (which he does)
Gus: Well, Phil, that's one I happen to agree with.
Phil: I don’t know Gus...sometimes I think you just have to take the big chances...I’m not going to live by their rules anymore!!!
Ralph: I noticed that.
Phil: You make choices and you live with them...
(The clock, in slow motion, turns from 5:59 to 6:00. Phil is lying in bed...)
Phil: Okay campers...rise and shine...and don’t forget your booties cause it’s cold out there today. It’s cold out there every day...
Time passes: and we arrive in the local diner with Phil and Rita:
Phil: I'm a god.
Rita: You're God...
Phil: I'm a god. I'm not *the* God... I don't think.........
Phil: I have been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned.
Rita: Oh, really?
Phil: ...and every morning I wake up without a scratch on me, not a dent in the fender... I am an immortal....
[Phil sets out to prove this to Rita, describing details of several people in the diner]
Rita: What about me, Phil? Do you know me too?
Phil: You like boats, but not the ocean. You go to a lake in the summer with your family up in the mountains. There's a long wooden dock and a boathouse with boards missing from the roof, and a place you used to crawl underneath to be alone. You're a sucker for French poetry and rhinestones. You're very generous. You're kind to strangers and children, and when you stand in the snow you look like an angel.
Rita: [in wonder] How are you doing this?
Phil: I told you. I wake up every day, right here, right in Punxsutawney, and it's always February 2nd, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Phil: What I wanted to say was...I think you're the kindest, sweetest, prettiest person I've ever met in my life. I've never seen anyone that's nicer to people than you are. The first time I saw you something happened to me. I never told you, but I knew that I wanted to hold you as hard as I could. I don't deserve someone like you. But If I ever could, I swear I would love you for the rest of my life.
He then decides to better himself. One day, while reading a book in the diner, he hears classical piano on the radio. He decides to learn how to play the piano: each day a single lesson until he can improvise jazz.
Nurse: Sometimes, people just die.
Phil: Not today.
Phil: When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter. From Punxsutawney, it's Phil Connors.