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: I don't mean to pry or nothing, but it's just... I wonder how a man gets such bad enemies. Cowboy
: I never had any good ones.
: I reckon we ought to bury him. Cowboy
: You find the head and I'll bury the rest of him. Dooley
: I guess the buzzards got to eat too. Old Colby, he was once a friend. Cowboy
: And once he wasn't.
: I can't say he looks any worse for being dead.
: You don't talk much, do you? Cowboy
: Nope. Dooley
: Is it me? Cowboy
: It might get to be. Dooley
: And when you're alone, do you talk to yourself? Cowboy
: Yep, and I have the good sense to know when to shut up. Dooley
: Well, what do you talk about? Cowboy
: No one else finds me this facinating. Why you? Dooley
: Well, it ain't because you're so facinating. It's just that you're the only one here.
: You're a hell of a shot, Cowboy. But in the human being department, you barely meet basic requirements.
: Patience isn't exactly his strong suit. Jacob Colby
: What is? Cowboy
: Shooting people who make me impatient.
: You're pretty gun at killing. Cowboy
: It's not a talent I wished for.
: Why are them regulators trying to kill ya. Cowboy
: Religious differences.
: Where are you from? Cowboy
: No place in particular? Dooley
: Where are you headed? Cowboy
: Same place.
: What the hell would you know about a future? Cowboy
: Nothing, but I know enough about not having one.
: I know that after all we've been through it's gonna seem kind of dumb to you, but I think I'm gonna stay here. Cowboy
: The longer I live, the more I have to reconsider what I think is dumb.