Plainview: You’re not my son.
H.W./George: Please don’t say that. I know you don’t mean it.
Plainview: It’s the truth. You’re not my son. You never have been. You’re an orphan. Did you ever hear that word? [to George]: Tell him what I said. You operated here today like one. I should have seen this coming. I should have known that under this all, these past years you’ve been building your hate for me piece by piece. I don’t even know who you are because you have none of me in you, you’re someone else’s. This anger, your maliciousness, backwards dealings with me. You’re an orphan from a basket in the middle of the desert. And I took you for no other reason than I needed a sweet face to buy land. Did you get that? Now you know.
[Plainview whistles mockingly]
Plainview: Look at me. You’re lower than a bastard. Mmm-hmm. You have none of me in you. You’re just a bastard from a basket.
H.W./George: I thank God I have none of you in me.
[H.W. and George get up and begin to leave the room]
Plainview: You’re not my son. You’re just a little piece of competition. Bastard from a basket, bastard from a basket. You’re a bastard from a basket!