Sergeant Darius P. Posey:
You! You're supposed to be dead!
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
I'm sorry, Slim. I didn't quite make it.
[
last lines]
Belle Aragon:
You'd think a woman of my experience would know more about men.
First Lt. Jim Gary:
Yeah. Well, I guess old Guth finally found something he wanted more than ten percent of.
[
first lines]
[
Jesus gives Marshal Guthrie a beer]
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
Thank you, Jesus.
Jesus:
Senor, the widow Gomez has delivered a son this morning - a boy.
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
Bully for the widow Gomez!
Jesus:
But senor, it has been more than a year ago since Senor Antonio Gomez has been buried in the church house.
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
Well, there are some men you just can't trust to stay where you put 'em.
Deputy Ward Corby:
You fellows sure look hot and thirsty. How'd you like to have a nice, cold beer? Honeybee!
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
Honeybee?
First Lt. Jim Gary:
Sounded like... Honeybee.
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
Honeybee...
[
while rescuing captives from the Comanches, Marshal McCabe missed voting for his re-election]
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
I didn't get a chance to vote for myself - not even once.
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
You know, sometimes it takes a lot more courage to live than it does to die.
Elena de la Madriaga:
These people, they smile at me and show their teeth, but it's the eyes that bite.
Belle Aragon:
Beer suit you?
First Lt. Jim Gary:
You read my mind.
Belle Aragon:
With most men, that's not too difficult - and not too interesting neither. I can tell when a man walks through that door whether he prefers blondes or brunettes, drinks whiskey or beer, plays blackjack or poker, is a cheapskate or a high roller.
Maj. Frazer:
Just how much do you think human lives are worth, McCabe?
Marshal Guthrie McCabe:
Whatever the market will bear! No more, no less.
Maj. Frazer:
I'm *ordering* you to volunteer to go with McCabe and meet with Quanah Parker.
First Lt. Jim Gary:
Well, uh, what about the treaty? The department's orders?
Maj. Frazer:
They can scarcely apply to a deserter out of uniform. If you *don't* return, that's exactly what'll show on your record.
First Lt. Jim Gary:
If I don't return, sir, it won't make much difference *what* shows on my record. When am I ordered to desert, sir?
Maj. Frazer:
I don't know what you're talking about. Get out of here.
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