Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid

Luke:
You'll just end up like all the other gringos - drinkin' tequila, shittin' out chili peppers, & waitin' fer... nothin'.

Billy:
Ol' Pat... Sheriff Pat Garrett. Sold out to the Santa Fe ring. How does it feel?

Garrett:
It feels like... times have changed.

Billy:
Times, maybe. Not me.

Garrett:
Won't some of you people get him up off the ground and into it?

Lemuel:
You made me have a bowel movement in my britches. I ain't never gonna forgive you for that.

Kip McKinney:
Nah... I ain't goin'.

Pat Garrett:
You owe it to me.

Kip McKinney:
I do? For *what*?

Pat Garrett:
For not killing at over at rosewater, for gettin' you this job, and not seein' run you outta this territory, for pullin' you outta that snow drift up at Shamus, and for cold cockin' you over at Stillwater Saloon last fall, and savin' you from Rabbit Owens from bitin' off your ear, and from just puttin' up with you for a hell of a lot longer than I oughta...

Kip McKinney:
Yeah... Well I hope they spell my name right in the paper.

Will:
When are you going to learn that you can't trust anybody, not even yourself?

Billy:
[Billy aims a shotgun at Ollinger] How's Jesus look to you now, Bob?

Sheriff Colin Baker:
Understand you been ridin' for Chisum. I'd rather be on the outside of the law than packing a badge for that town of Lincoln and them that's a-runnin' it.

Pat Garrett:
It's a job. Comes an age in a man's life when he don't wanna spend time figuring what comes next.

Billy:
I sure never figured on you taking on the badge.

Alamosa Bill:
Didn't figure on it myself. I was just in town being sociable. Rode in from Seven Rivers to watch you hang. Garrett swore me in when you lit out.

Mr. Horrell:
Just got through putting up that new cottonwood door. Used the old one for my son John. He got into a shooting with Olin Carroll. He's buried out yonder there.

Billy:
I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Horrell.

Mr. Horrell:
John was a good hand. Couldn't shoot, though.

Alamosa Bill:
[Billy and Alamosa prepare to shoot it out] I don't suppose there's any other way we could work this out? Nah. Well, let's get to it. Ten steps?

Billy:
Suits me. You count 'em. [long pause] You ain't thought of another way, have you?

Alamosa Bill:
No, I can't come up with nothing.

Billy:
Get to it.

Pat Garrett:
Now I want you to stand over behind Breed, here. Now I want you to take the stock of that gun and rap him smartly on the back of the head. You do it, boy, or this bullet that's going through his chest is liable to come out the other side and tickle your private parts.

Pat Garrett:
Lemuel.

Lemuel:
Yeah?

Pat Garrett:
You drag your fat ass over here so we can all see you.

Lemuel:
You're crazier than a mule-humpin' goat. Sitting there with all that law crammed inside of you just bustin' to get out. I wouldn't give a sweet jerk in hell if the Kid *did* lay you out.

Billy:
[to the man whose horse he's stolen after breaking out of jail and killing Deputy Sheriff Bob Ollinger with a shotgun loaded with 16 silver dimes, after the man complains about being reimbursed for the animal] "There's a buck-sixty in old Bob if you can dig it out."

Lemuel:
Yo'ant yo'self a Wo-man?... One come in there from Albuquerque around the cat house over... name is Bertha... 'got a ass on her like a forty dollar cow 'n' a tit - I'd like to see that thing filled full o' tequila. You know something? You can't beat that, can ya'?

Pat Garrett:
[to the prostitutes undressing him in his as the start to take off his longjohns] Pull hard. They've been on a long time.

Billy:
Whatya takin' me in for?

Garrett:
[to Deputy Sheriff J.W. Bell] Which one was that?

Deputy Sheriff J.W. Bell:
Buckshot Roberts.

Garrett:
For the killing of Buckshot Roberts!

Billy:
[to his confederates] Hell, that was a year ago. I shot him straight up.

Billy:
[to Pat Garrett] Come on in Pat, I'll warm ya breakfast!

Billy:
[Billy's braggadocio is answered by a hail of gunfire] I guess he already had breakfast.

Billy:
You're in poor company, Pat.

Garrett:
Yeah, but I'm alive.

Billy:
So am I...

Billy:
[after firing a coachgun loaded with 10 cents coins at Deputy Bob Ollinger] Keep change, Bob!

Garrett:
Why don't you take your money, shove it up your ass, and set fire to it?

Gov. Lew Wallace:
Commendable notion, Sheriff.

Ollinger:
On your knees.

Billy:
Kiss my ass! [Ollinger knocks Billy off his chair and puts a shotgun to his head]

Ollinger:
REPENT, you son of a b*tch!

Billy:
Sweet Jesus, I repent!

Garrett:
Bob, what else do you believe in, besides God?

Ollinger:
Me!

Garrett:
Just like old Ollinger - has the minority opinion on everything.

Ollinger:
I sure wish you'd try, son. I got my shotgun full of 16 thin dimes. Enough to spread you out like a crazy woman's quilt.

Garrett:
Who are you?

Alias:
That's a good question.

Denver:
[to Alias] What's your name, boy?

Alias:
Alias.

Denver:
Alias what?

Alias:
Alias anything you please.

Denver:
What do we call you?

Alias:
Alias.

Beaver:
Hell, let's call him Alias!

Alias:
That's what I'd do.

Denver:
Alias it is.