Jason Tully: Nothing's too good for the man who shot Liberty Valance.
[Doniphon has just faced down Valance in the diner]
Tom Doniphon: Well, now; I wonder what scared 'em off?
Dutton Peabody: [poking fun at Stoddard for his idealism] You know what scared 'em - the spectacle of law and order here, risin' up out of the gravy and the mashed potatoes.
Tom Doniphon: [Doniphon has just told Stoddard what really happened the night Liberty Valance was shot] Hallie's your girl now. Go back in there and take that nomination. You taught her how to read and write; now give her something to read and write about!
Floyd: It's Liberty! He - he's hurt!
[Doc approaches Valance's body]
Floyd: It's Liberty.
Doc Willoughby: Whiskey, quick.
Person on street: Here, sir.
Doc Willoughby: [takes a drink, turns Valances body over with his foot] Dead.
[Reese and Floyd are trying to get a lynch mob together after Stoddard kills Valance]
Tom Doniphon: Can't a man have a drink around this town in peace?
[grabs Floyd and throws him through the door]
Reese: No one's bothering you, Doniphon.
Tom Doniphon: *You* are.
[Reese goes for his gun, and Doniphon decks him]
Tom Doniphon: Marshal! What are you gettin' paid for? Drag this scum out of here.
Link Appleyard: You heard him! Now, Kaintuck and High Pockets, I deputize you to give a hand and drag this scum out of here!
Kaintuck: Give me that b-b-b-bung st-st-starter!
[grabs Reese and hauls him out]
Link Appleyard: You tell those ranchers north of the Picketwire that hired you that me, Link Appleyard, run you out of town, and I'll do it again if you ever come back!
Dutton Peabody: [protesting his nomination to the statehood convention] No! No! No you don't! No! I... I'm a newspaperman, not a politician! No, politicians are my meat - I build 'em up and I tear 'em down but I wouldn't be one I couldn't be one - it'd destroy me - gimme a...
Tom Doniphon: Bar's closed.
Dutton Peabody: Good people of Shinbone, I... I... I'm your conscience - I'm the still, small voice that thunders in the night. I'm your watchdog that howls against the wolves! I'm - I'm your father confessor! I... I... I'm... what else am I?
Tom Doniphon: Town drunk?
Tom Doniphon: I know those law books mean alot to you, but not out here. Out here a man settles his own problems.
Tom Doniphon: You talk too much, think too much. Besides, YOU didn't kill Liberty Valance.
Tom Doniphon: Liberty Valance's the toughest man south of the Picketwire - next to me.
Tom Doniphon: [Valance has tripped Rance in the diner, causing him to spill a tray of food] That's *my* steak, Valance.
Liberty Valance: [laughing] You heard him, Dude. Pick it up.
Ransom Stoddard: No!
Tom Doniphon: Pilgrim, hold it. I said you, Valance; *you* pick it up.
Liberty Valance: Three against one, Doniphon.
Tom Doniphon: My boy, Pompey; kitchen door.
[Valance looks and sees Pompey at the door holding a rifle]
Floyd: I'll get it, Liberty!
[Doniphon kicks Floyd in the face as he bends down to retrieve the tray]
Link Appleyard: Mr. Peabody's awful hurt and he needs you bad over at his office.
Liberty Valance: What's the matter, Mr. Marshal? Somebody have an accident?
Doc Willoughby: So that's it, another one of your 'accidents', huh Valance? I'm looking forward to the day when it's you they'll be calling me for.
Liberty Valance: [tossing Doc a silver dollar] Paid in advance.
Dutton Peabody: [during voting for the territorial convention] I'll have the usual, Jack.
Jack, Barman: The bar is closed, Mister Editor, during voting.
Dutton Peabody: Bar's closed?
Tom Doniphon: You can blame your lawyer friend. He says that's one of the "Fundamental laws of democracy." No exception.
Dutton Peabody: No exceptions for the working press? Why, that's carrying democracy much too far!
Amos Carruthers: [bringing his truant son Herbert to school] Ain't you goin' to give him a whoppin'?
Ransom Stoddard: No, he's too big.
Dutton Peabody: Give me a drink.
Tom Doniphon: Bar's closed.
Dutton Peabody: Just a beer!
Tom Doniphon: The bar's closed.
Dutton Peabody: A beer's not drinking!
Hallie: One steak for Mr. Peabody, with fixins'.
Nora Ericson: Steak, beans, potatoes...
Peter Ericson: And a deep dish apple pie.
Nora Ericson: Someday he order something different and we all faint dead away.
Ransom Stoddard: [looking into Doniphon's coffin, angrily] Where are his boots?
Undertaker: Well, I thought... well, they was an awful nice pair of boots, almost brand new, and I thought...
Ransom Stoddard: Put his boots on, Clute. And his gun belt, and his spurs.
Dutton Peabody: Hallie, please! The proprieties concerning the cutlery. Now, how many times have I told you, the fork goes to the left of the plate, and the knife goes...
Hallie: What's the matter with you? You superstitious or something?
[Pompey has gone into the saloon after Tom]
Barman: [indicating that he can't serve Pompey due to his being black] Now look, Pompey. You know I...
Tom Doniphon: [drunk] Who says he can't? Pour yourself a drink, Pompey.
Pompey: You know I don't drink no drams, Mr. Tom.
Tom Doniphon: I said take a drink.
Pompey: No, sir. We got a mare in foal, and horses to feed and water. You come on home.
Ransom Stoddard: Marshal, I was wrong the other day. But I was reading up on territorial law, and there it is, right there. Now, I'll draw up the complaint, take care of all the legal details - but you *do* have jurisdiction. Says so right there. So next time he sets foot in this town, you'll arrest him.
Link Appleyard: Anything you say, Mr. Stoddard. I'll be tickled to... death... *what* was that? Arrest *who*?
Ransom Stoddard: Liberty Valance.
Link Appleyard: Arrest Liberty Val... you mean Liberty Valance? Just as I was startin' to get my appetite back.
Hallie: Rance, do you think I could... I mean, grown up and all... do you think I could learn to read?
Ransom Stoddard: Why, sure you can, Hallie. Why, there's nothing to it. It'd be... it'd be easy. Can you learn how to read? Why, I can... I can teach you. A smart girl like you? Of course you can learn how to read. Now, do you want to try?
Hallie: It's awful worrisome not knowing how. I know the Good Book from preacher talk; but it'd be a soul comfort if I could read the words myself.
Election Council President: [at the territorial statehood convention] The chair recognizes its old friend; that distinguished member of the Fourth Estate, founder, owner, publisher and editor of the Shinbone Star, Mr. Dutton Peabody, Esquire!
Dutton Peabody: Thank you, thank you, Mister Chairman, for those kind words; but why don't you tell them the whole truth: founder, owner, editor, and I also sweep out the place.
Link Appleyard: The jail's only got one cell, and the lock's broke and I sleep in it.
Dutton Peabody: [to Liberty Valance and his gang who have been waiting for him in the newspaper office] Liberty Valance... and his myrmidons!
Ransom Stoddard: [in Stoddard's classroom] How you feeling this morning?
Link Appleyard: Just fine, fine, fine.
Ransom Stoddard: Your head cold?
Link Appleyard: Uh, no, no. I uh.
[sheepishly removes hat]
Liberty Valance: You got a choice, Dishwasher. Either you get out of town, or tonight you be out on that street alone. You be there, and don't make us come and get you.
Tom Doniphon: [to Ransom Stoddard] Hey, pilgrim! You forgot your pop-gun!
Dutton Peabody: Courage can be purchased at yon' tavern!
Dutton Peabody: Liberty Valance defeated. D-E-F-E-E... T-E-D? The unsteady hand betrays. What's the matter, Mr. Peabody? Are you afraid? The answer is indub... yes. No courage left. Well, courage can be purchased at yon tavern. But have we credit? That is the question. Have we credit? Well, credit is cheap. Wait for me, old servant of the public weal. Our shining hour is yet to come. As for you, Horace Greeley, go west, old man, and grow young with the country.
Liberty Valance: [Raising his gun] This time, right between the eyes.
High Pockets: Then what about Mr. Peabody? He can read and write, and he runs the newspaper.
Kaintuck: Yeah, and when he's drinking, why, he can talk the ears off of a woo-wooden Indian.
Pompey: It was writ by Mr. Thomas Jefferson of Virginia.
Ransom Stoddard: Was written, Pompey.
Pompey: Written by Mr. Thomas Jefferson. And he called the Constitution.
Ransom Stoddard: Declaration of Independence.
Pompey: It begun with the words... "We hold these truths to be..." uhh...
Charlie - A Classmate: Self-evident.
Ransom Stoddard: Let him alone, Charlie.
Pompey: "Self-evident, that..." uhh... that...
Ransom Stoddard: "That all men are created equal." That's fine, Pompey.
Pompey: I knew that, Mr. Rance, but I just plumb forgot it.
Ransom Stoddard: Oh, it's all right, Pompey. A lot of people forget that part of it. You did just fine, Pompey.
Tom Doniphon: Pompey, go find Doc Willoughby. If he's sober, bring him back.
Link Appleyard: As long as he behaves himself in this town, I ain't got no, ah...
Ransom Stoddard: Jurisdiction.
Link Appleyard: What he said is right. I ain't got none of it.
Liberty Valance: [shouting] Hashslinger; you out here?
High Pockets: I'd say that was Liberty Valance there now; wouldn't you?
Ransom Stoddard: Yes, I would.
Kaintuck: W-w-we'll be seein' you, Mr. Stoddard.
High Pockets: Well, Mr. Professor. I thought you left town. What are you doin' out here?
Ransom Stoddard: I'm waiting for Liberty Valance. Why doesn't he come out?
Kaintuck: Well, th-th-that's n-n-none of our b-b-b-business.
Link Appleyard: Did you know Liberty Valance is in town tonight?
Dutton Peabody: I'd be a poor newspaperman indeed if I didn't know what everybody knows!
Doc Willoughby: [very drunk] My advice to you as uh...
Dutton Peabody: Coroner.
Doc Willoughby: and uh your personal phys...
Dutton Peabody: Physician!
Doc Willoughby: is to get your supper and go to bed. No charge.
Election Council President: [after a mounted politician working for Langhorne has ridden a horse into the convention and performed rope tricks for the audience] This is a convention, *not* a rodeo, Langhorne!
Ransom Stoddard: [descending from railway carriage and consulting pocket watch] Thanks, Jason. On time.
Dutton Peabody: As for you, Old Man: go West and grow young with the country!
Maj. Cassius Starbuckle: What kind of lawyer is he? He takes the law into his own hands. He has blood on his hands. The mark of Cain is on this man.
Tom Doniphon: Since our legal authority closed the bar on us, I propose that Ransom Stoddard, Attorney at Law, come up here and run this meeting for us.
Tom Doniphon: Pompey! Bring me those cans.
[Pompey brings three cans of paint]
Tom Doniphon: Give me that thing. I'll show you how easy it is.
[Ransom Stoddard hands his pistol to Doniphon]
Tom Doniphon: Take these cans, put them on those three posts. Go ahead.
[Stoddard takes the cans to the post which is two away from the corner post]
Tom Doniphon: That's it, that first post.
Ransom Stoddard: There?
Tom Doniphon: That's right.
[Stoddard heads for the next-to-last post]
Tom Doniphon: Not there! On the far post!
[Stoddard goes to the corner post]
Tom Doniphon: That's right!
[Stoddard puts the paint can on the corner post]
Tom Doniphon: Now put that last one in the middle!
[Doniphon shoots two of the paint cans]
Tom Doniphon: Pilgrim!
[Doniphon shoots the can just above Stoddard, splashing him with paint; he laughs at Stoddard, who angrily walks over to Doniphon]
Tom Doniphon: I hate tricks, pilgrim, but that's what you're up against with Valance! He's almost as fast as I am.
[Stoddard punches Doniphon on the jaw, knocking him to the ground]
Ransom Stoddard: I don't like tricks myself, so that makes us even!
Tom Doniphon: [gets off the ground as Stoddard gets into his carriage] Hey pilgrim, you forgot your pop gun!
Dutton Peabody: [Peabody has just been nominated as a delegate to statehood] No! No! No you don't! No! I... I'm a newspaperman, not a politician! No, politicians are my meat - I build 'em up and I tear 'em down but I wouldn't be one I couldn't be one - it'd destroy me... gimme a
Tom Doniphon: Bar's closed.
Dutton Peabody: Huh? Good people of Shinbone, I... I... I'm you conscience - I'm the still, small voice that thunders in the night. I'm your watchdog that howls against the wolves! I'm - I'm your father confessor! I... I... I'm... I'm... what else am I?
Tom Doniphon: Town drunk?