West: It can give the most ordinary of intelligences a remarkable insight.
John: I'll give you insight -- I'll show you what your guts look like.
French: Ya, keep on talking there, Irish! In about 15 more seconds your whole world's gonna turn black!
(John Marston walks into the barn)
John: What's up, boys?
(Welsh and French let go of Irish and turn to face John)
Welsh: Fuck off, boyo. This don't concern you!
John: When a man with a sing-song voice tells me to fuck off, it always concerns me, boyo.
French: Look here, this paddy bastard stole our gun. Tried to steal our horses. Law is clear on the matter.
Irish: I never stole nothing, sir. Never did. Not in all me life! That French cunt! He's playing with the Welshman's tiny and ineffective mind!
French: Hush your mouth!
John: Anyway, y'all got horses now. No one needs to die. Leave him be.
Welsh: Who do you think you are, boyo? The bloody cavalry?
John: Your voice is really starting to get on my nerves, boyo.
Welsh: And you're gettin' on my nerves!
(Welsh and French assault John, and are quickly killed)
De Santa: Something doesn't feel right.
John: Maybe you just need to take a piss or something.
Bonnie: Thank you, Mr. Marston. I feel a lot happier someone's along with me.
John: I feel a lot happier now I got a rifle.
Johnson: Settle down there Jonah.
John: Listen to your boss Jonah, there's a good boy. Otherwise I'll put a hole in your hillbilly head and watch your tiny brain drain out.
John: How very interesting. Look, you thought any more about our plan?
West: Ah, your plan, dear boy, your plan. I am merely the help, not mercifully the arbiter of wisdom.
John: What you are, dear boy, is a man whose life I've saved twice now. A man who sells lies and deceit to unwitting people. A man who if he doesn't help me, I won't think twice about putting a bullet through his skull, feeding to the vultures myself!
Seth: Finally! Months of searching! I'm gonna be rich beyond my wildest dreams!
John: Maybe then you can take a bath.
John: That ain't fair.
Abigail: What is fair?
john: Well, some trees flourish, others die. Some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. Some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. Ain't nothing fair. You know that.
Uncle: I did...I did my best. Thing is, there was too many of 'em... I thought you was dead... I wasn't drinking...
John: Hold your excuses until you've figured out which one to use.
Bonnie: How are you feeling, Mrs. Marston? From what your husband told me, it must have been awful for you.
Abigail: I've been through worse. And I knew he'd be back before too long. He can't cook a meal to save his life.
John: (sarcastically) Abigail, in my darkest hours, when I was most homesick, just the thought of one of your rat meat stews kept me pushing forward.