Quisima: If Comanches must die, they will die like men... but never give up sacred soil of their fathers.

James Bowie: So this is the mighty Quisima who sat on the council of the white man in Washington. This is Quisima who gave one hand in friendship to his white brothers while the other hand held a knife. This is Quisima whose words is shifting as the wind, whose tongue twists like a river of many branches. this is Quisima, breaker of treaties. Today, the Comanche is held in honor and respect like the mountain that never yields, or the sun that never changes. Tomorrow he will be driven off like a dog that wanders close to a campfire to tkae his place among men.

Katie Howard: All right, mister, draw! I said, draw!
James Bowie: Sorry, ma'am. Back in Louisiana, when we meet any pretty ladies, we make love to them, we kiss them, spank 'em on occasion... but we never go around shootin' 'em.

Stacey Howard: You all know what we're here for. I had you men picked because I think you all feel the way I do. We didn't come out here for the good of the glorious West... but for our own good. And that being so, we're moving on Comanche territory tonight.