Miss Jones: Rosie, how many times you been married?
Rosie: Eleven. Ten without a preacher or license.
Miss Jones: Well, did you love any of 'em?
Rosie: Oh, all of 'em! Every one of 'em! The good and the bad. It's a shame to waste all that prime beef on a guy serving three to five in a prison. Do you keep in touch?
Miss Jones: Oh, he's kind of a lousy letter writer.
Rosie: A lousy bank robber, too.
Sam Clayton: Just like old times.
Luke Matthews: Yeah. You start trouble and I start bleedin'.
Carbo: Whiskey for me and beer for my horse.
Carbo: All this hardware... I ain't never been in a gunfight.
Miss Jones: Killing a man don't prove you're a man.
Luke Matthews: I want you to tell me the story of your life. Just skip everything up till the last fifteen minutes.
Sam Clayton: You know, I'm un-American.
Luke Matthews: What's that?
Sam Clayton: Well, I don't know exactly, except if you're not the best, the first and the greatest - if you don't win, then you're not American.
Miss Jones: The people some people marry.
Mister: God, what ain't I tried. Pony express rider, Overland Stage driver, lawman, gambler, riverman, rancher, rodeo hand, barman, spittoon man... old man. Never much to remember. Of course, there ain't much to forget, either. Nobody's got much use for an old man. I can't blame 'em much. That's why I'm going to win this here newspaper race. When I cross the finish line, I get to be a big man. Top man. A man to remember.
Mister: I've never saw a man who could hold his liquor like a bottle.
Norfolk: How much does Parker pay you? Fifty dollars a month? Sixty? Win this race and you could have three years' salary.
Sam Clayton: Mister, did you ever see a horse run himself to death just to please the man on his back? What's the horse get out of it? Cracked bones? Colic? See his picture in the paper? Horse doesn't give a damn who wins a race. Me neither.
Sam Clayton: Aw, who wants the easy life?
Luke Matthews: I do.
Miss Jones: I've been around a lot of cowhands, one way or another. A cowboy dresses from the top down. The first thing on is his hat. And he undresses from the bottom up. Last thing off... hat. Oh, and another thing - to be a cowpuncher, that don't mean you actually got to go around punching them, you know.
Luke Matthews: How far is it to town?
The Wood Cutter: Don't know. Never seem to have made it.
Luke Matthews: Well, you don't know much.
The Wood Cutter: Huh?
Luke Matthews: I said you don't know much.
The Wood Cutter: Mister, I don't know a damned thing about nothin'... but I ain't the one who's lost.
Prostitute: Mister? How do you like it, Mister?
Sam Clayton: Without conversation.
Luke Matthews: You certainly have a knack of provoking a man to violence.
Carbo: All I said was she.
Luke Matthews: It was the way you said it - like it was an insult.
Carbo: Hell, yeah, when a woman does it for money.
Luke Matthews: A man always gets the best of the bargain. Before you take her to bed, she's a thing of beauty. In bed, an angel of mercy. And afterwards, she's a.
Carbo: Whore.
Luke Matthews: ...a pillow piece.
Answer: Also, those weren't stuntmen.