Pappyism: A man does what he has to do if he can't get out of it.
Bret: Toward the end of the summer, I had pretty well exhausted the possibilities at the poker tables at Kansas City. And they had exhausted me. They'd exhausted me to the point where I was traveling to St. Louis with all my worldly possessions... in the shape of a thousand-dollar bill pinned inside my coat.
Gilliespie McKenzie: Ah, man, you saved me from a dire predicament.
Bret: Well, it didn't look like you were being rewarded for civic virtue.
Bret: You keep your boat, sport, and I'll keep my thousand dollars. That way, everything will be kept pure and simple.
Gillespie McKenzie: You're probably right, but it takes a gambling man to appreciate my proposition. I must be daffy to think of straddling you with all that responsibility, all the money rolling in every night and, uh, those lovely lassies to be keeping an eye on.
Bret: Uh, what lassies?
Gillespie McKenzie: Oh, the pretty lassies that help out at the gambling salon, of course.
Bret: The, uh, gambling salon?
Gillespie McKenzie: Oh, did I not mention it? Why the Cynthia B. is a regular floating poker palace.
Bret: Uh, Mr. MacKenzie, tell me more.
Modesty Blaine: Why, Bret Maverick.
Bret: Modesty Blaine!? You out on parole?
Modesty Blaine: Now, don't be stuffy, darlin'. I may have taken advantage of you once or twice, that doesn't mean I don't like ya.
Modesty Blaine: Twenty thousands dollars, hmm? That's not very much money split seven ways.
Bret: Well, just be thankful there are only seven days in a week. Anyway, it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.
Modesty Blaine: Well, I'd like to poke Mr. Mackenzie in the eye... with a very sharp stick.
Mrs. Tutwiler: Ah, this is Mrs. Maverick, I presume?
Bret: I should say not! I couldn't afford to keep her in bail money.
Mrs. Tutwiler: Come, my dear, I'll show you where your cabin is, and then we can go to the galley and unpack the baskets of food and plan the cooking.
Bret: Modesty, cook? We may never reach Memphis.
Quincy Smith: Keep your eyes open, Maverick.
Bret: Oh, I've got a good eye for that sort of thing.
Quincy Smith: Spotting trouble?
Bret: Avoiding it.
Modesty Blaine: I'll just bet nobody expected dessert, did'ya?
Mrs. Tutwiler: She made it all by herself. She calls it apple surprise.
Bret: No wonder they call this a death ship. (Modesty storms off, sobbing)
Mrs. Tutwiler: Mr. Maverick, you should be ashamed of yourself. And she worked so hard, too.
Bret: Believe me, I didn't even know she knew how to cry.
Modesty Blaine: (slaps Bret) That was for your remarks about my cooking.
(Bret catches Modesty searching his cabin)
Modesty Blaine: Oh, Bret, please don't be angry with me. I heard a noise in my room and it worried me. So, I came here lookin' for ya.
Bret: Where did you expect to find me? In my coat pocket?
Quincy Smith: Put it bluntly, you strike me as a shifty character.
Modesty Blaine: Shiftless, maybe, but not shifty.
Bret: Oh, please, Modesty. I didn't know you cared.
Quincy Smith: A coward dies a thousand deaths, the hero dies but one.
Bret: I prefer the coward's way. The odds are much better.
Quincy Smith: You're a thief and a murderer.
Gillespie McKenzie: The first by inclination and the second by necessity.