Pappyism: Trust your fellow man to be exactly what he is.
Pappyism: Men who claim they just wanna talk generally have more than just words on their mind.
Pappyism: Stay clear of men who promise no regrets.
Pappyism: It's a wise coyote that lets a rabbit run into his mouth.
Boy: You are Maverick, aren't ya?
Bret: That's right, son, I am.
Boy: Told ya so! You going to win, Mr. Maverick?
Bret: I didn't come all this way to lose, son.
Rodney: You know, I've read just about everything that's ever been written about you.
Bret: Don't have much regard for what you do with your time, do you, son?
Bret: Lady, I don't like photographs of myself.
Mary Lou: Aw, that's because you've never been photographed by M.L. Springer.
Bret: I try to limit myself to one blinding a day.
Protester: Some people have no shame.
Bret: That's cause the others have enough for everybody.
Mandy Packer: I tell ya, Tombstone's about through. Big Bonanza's all played out - miners and farmers. Oh, I tell ya, boys, times are changin' faster than a new girl on Saturday night.
Bret: Well, there's one thing that hasn't changed, Mandy, you still look great.
Mandy Packer: And you're still a liar.
Ramsey Bass: I was worried you wouldn't make it, Maverick.
Bret: Well, Bass, now you can start worryin' that I did.
Bret: I didn't bring the plague, Sheriff, I just came here for a little game of cards.
Doc Holliday: You come far for this game?
Bret: Oh, uh, thousand miles. Like you said, it's a big game.
Doc Holliday: Yeah. Yeah, maybe my last.
Bret: Come on, Doc, you're too rotten to die.
Doc Holliday: Thanks, Maverick. I consider that a compliment. But the fact is, all I need to be a cadaver is a tall, white candle and a place to lie down.
Tom: Before y'all start, I have an announcement which probably won't be too popular. Nevertheless, I'll be checkin' all your weapons at the door.
Mandy Packer: Why, Tom Guthrie, you can check my weapons any time you want.
Bret: Can't we just skip this? I only carry one gun in self-defense. I, uh, never pull it in anger. I hate violence.
Tom: Hand it over. I'll take that, uh, Sharps four-barrel you pulled on Lucas yesterday. Right sleeve. I read a newspaper account, uh, how you pulled a Colt .41 on Wyley Cooter
Bret: Well, only after he shot me in the leg.
Tom: Left sleeve, I believe.
Bret: Damn newspapers. (Bret hands it over)
Tom: I read another account where you, uh, won a set of matched Bricbottoms from Zlotof the Russian. I'll take those, too. Now, I'll take that Barnes 50-caliber you're said to carry in your boot. Told you sometimes keep a palm gun in the crown of your hat?
Bret: Aw, no, I quit doin' that - gave me headaches. No… uh, I think you got everything but my suspender button and my pocket watch, so…
Tom: No! No, I don't have the belly gun you pulled in Meeker last year. Denver Star.
Bret: For a sheriff, you sure do read a lot.
Tom: I guess you gotta be kinda careful not to fall in a pond. Bass tells me that you sometimes keep a holdout gun in the small of your back. You know the procedure by now. For a man who hates violence, you come pretty well-heeled.
Bret: With Ramsey Bass around, I don't want any of that violence happenin' to me. Never felt so naked in my life!
Tom: Maybe I better take a look inside your hat.
Bret: I told ya, I don't pack that one anymore!
Tom: Well, you won't mind takin' off your hat then. (finds the gun there) Is that all?
Bret: Of course that's all.
Tom: How about your pocket watch?
Bret: I promise not to throw it at anyone.
Tom: Let me see it. (Bret pulls out a derringer on a chain and hands it over) Is that all?
Bret: No … think I'll strangle someone with my string tie.
Bret: Sheriff, since you're so set on havin' an honest game, that blue-eyed killer back there is a known associate of Mr. Bass. They got more signals than the Southern Pacific. I don't want him standin' behind me.
Bret: Well, there's a hundred thousand dollars and a saloon in the middle of the table, and both of you are tapped out. I could buy this pot for ten dollars.
Doc Holliday: Not and live to tell about it.
Bret: But, since we're all such… good and old friends, I'll just call.
Tom: There's no law against buying votes. Some of the folks around here need the money more than the choice. That's just the way it's done. Now, if you'll excuse me …
Rodney: Well, M. L. says you should give longer speeches.
Tom: So she's told me more than once. But speechmaking and handshaking don't have anything to do with being a good sheriff. When I came to this town they didn't even have elections. I ran off the Banovich Gang and they hired me, it's as simple as that. Now a man's gotta kiss babies - among other things.
Cy: Turn around! I don't allow no bankers on my property!
Bret: I'm not a banker, I'm a gambler.
Cy: That don't cut no hay with me - gambler's just two notches above a banker!
Philo Sandeen: Most folks know me as Philo Sandeen. The Comanches call me "Standing Bear", the Utes call me "In The Wind". But you're lucky I happened by, you're in need of my services.
Bret: Which are?
Philo Sandeen: Professional guide.
Bret: You know the Badlands?
Philo Sandeen: Like the inside of my mouth. I've been a pathfinder, provisioner and Army scout. Fact is, I was General Custer's chief scout. Oh. I tried to warn him, just as I'm warning you. It's the Devil's own maze out there
Philo Sandeen: And considering the nature of your quest, I'll be collecting my fee in advance - $500.
Bret: That's all I've got left to my name.
Philo Sandeen: You can keep your name. 'Course, it's your business, you want to go out there alone. Most men… never return. Never.
Bret: All right, Sandeen, looks like I don't have much choice.
Philo Sandeen: And if you do get your money back, there was some mention of a reward.
Bret: We'll cross that trail when we come to it. You ready to ride?
Philo Sandeen: I was born ready, Pilgrim
Mary Lou: So you're just gonna let him ride out there like that?
Tom: No law against bein' a fool.
Mary Lou: There was a time when you would've gone with him, Tom.
Tom: I'm smarter than I used to be.
Bret: I want my money back! You know, I don't believe a word you say--you lived with the Comanches, studied their medicine, know their laws. None of it! Uh, you throw twigs in the air. You--you chant. You find meaning in flat, gray rocks. You get us hopelessly lost! I want my m…
Philo Sandeen: Silence!
Bret: What are we listening for?
Philo Sandeen: I hear a voice in the wind.
Bret: There's no wind.
Philo Sandeen: Because your ears have been stopped by the silence of the white man. I am "Standing Bear," he who sows for the Sioux, and I am one with the land.
Bret: In a minute, you're gonna be layin' on it.
Philo Sandeen: Get down, gringo dog!
Bret: Aw, come on, don't tell me this whole thing was a set-up for $500? I've been taken by a greedy banker, a lifelong friend and now some cutthroat who's about 12 biscuits shy of a dozen. I must be gettin' old.
Bret: Well, looks like that mule of yours just stops as fast as he starts.
Philo Sandeen: (sinking in quicksand) The Great spirit has saved me again! Come on! Get me out of here! I beg of you!
Bret: And a "hawk-a-hay" to you too, "Standing Bum."
Philo Sandeen: But I saved your life!
Bret: There were no Apaches.
Philo Sandeen: There coulda been Apaches! Doesn't that count for something!?
Bret: Well, I got a dilemma. My head tells me one thing, my heart tells me another.
Philo Sandeen: Could I put in a word for the heart?
Bret: Sure. My head tells me to shoot you before you go under. My heart tells me to let you go down on your own.
Bret: I know I'm gonna regret this.
Philo Sandeen: You won't regret it, I promise!
Bret: My pappy always told me to stay clear of men who promised no regrets. And here I am throwin' a rope to one
Philo Sandeen: You had me worried there for a minute, Pilgrim.
Bret: Just don't press it again, eh?
Philo Sandeen: My people have a custom. When you save a life … you own that life. I am your servant. I am your brother.
Bret: I already have a brother and I don't want a servant - particularly some bogus Indian who thinks he's Sitting Bull.
Philo Sandeen: Standing Bear.
Bret: You know, I know it's bad manners, but, uh, mind if I ask you a personal question?
Tom: Depends on the question.
Bret: About you and Mary Lou, I detect a sort of, uh, history, if you get my drift?
Tom: That was the wrong question, gambler.
Tom: I had to get out of town. If I had to listen to one more of Dowd's speeches, I'd a killed him myself - and that wouldn't do for a man running for sheriff.
Bret: Think he's gonna win that election?
Tom: I hear it's bought and paid for.
Bret: Could be. Be easy to stuff the ballot box while you're out here.
Tom: Well, I got a couple of deputies supposed to be watchin' for that, but I think they're spendin' Crow's money already, so who knows?
Tom: Mind if I ask you a personal question?
Bret: Depends on the question.
Tom: What's so important about this money that you'd risk your life to try to get it back?
Bret: Well, I don't know. I always figured that money was just a way of keepin' score, but this time - I dunno, it's more'n that.
Tom: Why? Another town, another game. You're good enough--you're bound to hit again.
Bret: Yeah, sure, and pretty soon it's time to crawl up in some pesthole and die. I'd just rather it didn't work out that way.
Bret: Well, they got us pinned flatter'n a brown tick on a white dog.
Tom: Look at the positive side of it.
Bret: I fail to see it.
Tom: We've also got them pinned to the side of that hill. They're not goin' anyplace either.
Tom: Can you two keep 'em busy while I work around in back and come in on top of 'em?
Bret: We can try but I don't have a lot of ammo.
Tom: Well, I don't imagine you'll run out of mouth for the next hundred years or so. It is our only chance.
Tom: Don't try me, boys! I don't have an ounce of bluff in my soul!
Bret: Can I buy you a drink?
Tom: Election day. The saloon's closed.
Bret: I own it.
Tom: I'm not ordinarily a drinkin' man, but I could surely use one now.
Philo: Hey, don't take the picture till I get in!
Cy: Oh, if brains was leather, Philo Sandeen couldn't saddle a bug.