Men are born, and then they're formed.

We all need friends, old timer. We die alone, but we live among men.

When a man with a singsong voice tells me to fuck off, it ALWAYS concerns me, boyo.

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.

"Yeah, see I'll tell you what the alternative is. It's not that complicated. It's about one man and this gun versus another man. Sure, civilization may be dull, but the alternative, Mr. Marston, is hell."