Scotty Mason:
That beautiful head, with fire in his eyes... his stride must be twenty feet long, and when he runs his hooves sound like thunder.

Scotty Mason:
He's dead. Dead drunk. He's young and wild, but he'll grow out of it, just like you did.

Scotty Mason:
There's a story they tell that whoever catches him gets what's coming to him, his judgment right here on earth.

Scotty Mason:
Look at Thunderhoof, Marguerita. He's the beginning of our ranch. Ten days from now, we'll be under our own roof, your own house.

The Kid:
You'll find yourself married to an old man. But I reckon you'd rather herd horses.

Scotty Mason:
He wasn't a bad kid. Just young, wild. He never grew up because I wouldn't let him.