Lee: [Grabs at three flies - opens his hand] One. There was a time when I'd have gotten all three.

Lee: I found them.

Lee: Yes. The final supreme idiocy. Coming here to hide. The deserter hiding out in the middle of a battlefield.

Chamlee: I don't like it, no sir. I've always treated every man the same: just as another, future customer.
Henry: Well in that case, get that hearse rolling.
Chamlee: I can't, my driver's quit!
Robert: He's prejudiced too, huh?
Chamlee: Well, when it comes to a chance of getting his head blown off, he's downright bigoted.

Chamlee: I'm sorry, friend, but there'll be no funeral.
Henry: What?
Chamlee: Oh, the grave is dug and the defunct there is as ready as the embalmers ought to make him. But there'll be no funeral.
Henry: What's the matter? Didn't I pay enough?
Chamlee: It's not a question of money. For twenty dollars, I'd plant anybody with a hoop and a holler. But the funeral is off.
Henry: Now how do you like that. I want him buried, you want him buried and if he could sit up and talk, he'd second the motion. Now that's as unanimous as you can get.

Chamlee: There's an element in town that objects.
Henry: Objects? Objects to what?
Chamlee: They say he isn't fit to be buried there.
Robert: What? In Boot Hill?
Henry: Why, there's nothing up there but murderous cutthroats and derelict old barflies, and if they ever felt exclusive brother, they're past it now.

Henry: This man needs to be buried. And soon. He's not turning into any nosegay.

Henry: Well I'll be damned. I never knew you had to be anything but a corpse to get into Boot Hill. How long's this been going?
Chamlee: Since the town got civilized.

Calvera: [dying - to Chris] You came back - for a place like this. Why? A man like you. Why?

Calvera: Generosity... that was my first mistake. I leave these people a little bit extra, and then they hire these men to make trouble. It shows you, sooner or later, you must answer for every good deed.