Judd Bowman: What do you want?
Paladin: The truth.
Judd Bowman: Such as?
Paladin: Sick to death, tired to exhaustion. With two broken arms, Abel Hix could outdraw you sixty times every hour if it was a fair fight.
Paladin: You'll be staying.
Lauro: Oh, si. Who would watch the sheeps? Who would love my pretty hills?
Paladin: "To him who in the love of nature holds communion with her visible forms, she speaks a various language."