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[Harry has been shot riding to Chris' rescue in the final battle against Calvera.]
Harry Luck: Chris... I hate to die a sucker. We didn't come here just to keep an eye on a lot of corn and chili peppers, did we? There was something else all along, wasn't there?
Chris Adams: Yes, Harry. You had it pegged right all along.
Harry: I knew it. What was it?
Chris: Gold. Sacks of it.
Harry: Sounds... beautiful. How much?
Chris: At least a hundred and fifty.
Harry: My cut would have been what?
Chris: About seventy thousand.
Harry: I'll be damned. (he expires)
Chris: Maybe you won't be.
Harry Luck: Chris... I hate to die a sucker. We didn't come here just to keep an eye on a lot of corn and chili peppers, did we? There was something else all along, wasn't there?
Chris Adams: Yes, Harry. You had it pegged right all along.
Harry: I knew it. What was it?
Chris: Gold. Sacks of it.
Harry: Sounds... beautiful. How much?
Chris: At least a hundred and fifty.
Harry: My cut would have been what?
Chris: About seventy thousand.
Harry: I'll be damned. (he expires)
Chris: Maybe you won't be.
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The fighting is over. Your work is done. For them, each season has its tasks. If there were a season for gratitude, they'd show it more.
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See? I told you! You see your fathers?
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There's no need to apologize. We weren't expecting flowers and speeches.
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You must excuse them. They are farmers here. They are afraid of everyone and everything. They are afraid of rain, and no rain. The summer may be too hot, or the winter too cold. If the sow has no pigs, the farmer is afraid he may starve. If she has too many pigs, he is afraid she may starve.
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Once you begin you've got to be ready for killing and more killing, and then still more killing, until the reason for it is gone.
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There comes a time to turn Mother's picture to the wall and get out!
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Hmm... come to think of it, it was a silver mine.
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Call it.
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You lost.
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Graveyards are full of boys who are very young and very proud.
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He's a good gun. We aren't going to a church social.
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We deal in lead, friend.
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What happens to these people will happen whether I kill you first or not.
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[Driving an occupied hearse to a confrontation with local bigots]
Chris Adams: Don't worry. We'll get there (to Boot Hill).
Vin: Gettin' up there doesn't worry me. Stayin' there is what I mind.
Chris Adams: Don't worry. We'll get there (to Boot Hill).
Vin: Gettin' up there doesn't worry me. Stayin' there is what I mind.