What's wrong with you?
What is wrong with me? What have you got? I am dying of tuberculosis. I sleep with the nastiest whore in Kansas. Everyone who knows me hates me, and every morning I wake up surprised that I have to spend another day in this piss-hole world. (To onlookers) All you can kiss my rebel dick!
Not everyone who knows you hates you, Doc.
I know it's not always easy being my friend, but I'll be there when you need me.
(to Wyatt) Have you ever wondered why you and I have been part of so many unfortunate incidents, but are still here? I have figured it out. It's nothing much, just luck. I wake up every day looking at Death, and you know what? He ain't half bad. I think the secret old Mr. Death is hiding is that for some of us, it's better on the other side. I know it can't be any worse for me. Maybe that's the place for your Maddie. Wyatt, for some of us, this world ain't ever gonna be right.