(reading a newspaper)
Paladin: "An itinerant farmhand is known to have killed at least nine persons including two women and three children."
Hey Boy: Poor children. So very sad.
Paladin: Yes, it is, Hey Boy. So very sad, and someone must catch that fellow.
Hey Boy: Poor children.
Paladin: Hey Boy, I am going after the man. But I am not going after him because you would make my life miserable if I didn't, no, sir. I'm going because I'm tired of low ceilings... hmph. And the taste of champagne. I'd like some sunshine and fresh air for a change.
Marshal Buell: Paladin, Jerry thinks she's doing this to help me. Jeri, the first thing I did when I came here was to take these shells out of that shotgun. Sooner or later everyone thinks he can handle this job just a little bit better than I can--even Jeri, even Bissell and his posse. Well, Davy, if they want you alive, they'd better leave you with me. Because nobody's gonna take you away from me alive.
Paladin: What if Bissell calls your bluff?
Marshal Buell: Let's put it this way, Paladin. It's our last chance, Davy's and mine. Either we live together, or we die together.
Marshal Buell: They're not so hot to see that Davy's set free. They want to get at me. Davy--he's nothing but the sneeze.
Paladin: The sneeze?
Marshal Buell: Years ago I used to ride trail drives. Once we were out about three weeks and we ran into a dry well. That night there was a summer storm, thunder and lightning. You'd smell water in the air, but there was no rain. Every time the sky lit up, we thought the beef would be up and runnin'. Long about four in the morning, one of the boys sneezed. That beef was up and running like the sneeze was dynamite. Now you could say that sneeze started the stampede, but I wouldn't.
Paladin: What would you say, Marshal?
Marshal Buell: I'd say those beef were all ready to run. If it hadn't been the sneeze, something else would have started them. Davy, he's nothing but the sneeze.
Paladin: Still, those cattle did have a reason to run.
Marshal Buell: You think those men coming here don't?
Marshal Buell: Well, what am I gonna say to the family of the next man he kills?
Bissell: That won't be your problem, Marshal. That'll be another man's. Now Jim, give me the keys for this boy's leg chains. Take those chains off of him, get him outside and ready to ride. I'm sorry, Jim.
Marshal Buell: They won't understand.
Paladin: They understand. And I understand. Twenty-three years of intimacy with the misery and madness of men, wrapping bodies in ponchos and Kicking dust over the blood. Telling a wife you just shot her husband. Or a father that his son must hang. And telling yourself that the law will be done, no matter what the personal pain, anguish. I understand that twenty-three years of anguish, torture can twist a man. The ironic thing, Marshal, is that only the very best survive long enough to break.