Harper House Desk Clerk: [indignantly] You're breakin' the law!
Marshal Matt Morgan: [angrily] I AM the law!

Linda, Craig's Girl: Oh, and if any of the girls try and tell you how wonderful you are, don't believe them. I know. I used to deal there.
[she gets up]
Linda, Craig's Girl: Just like Jimmy - stobborn as a mule!
Marshal Matt Morgan: Next time you see Jimmy, say hello. We seem to have a lotr in common.
Linda, Craig's Girl: Maybe more than you know. He's dead!

Linda, Craig's Girl: The human race stinks. I'm practically an authority on that subject.

Rick Belden, Craig's Son: Don't take no guts to kill a man when he's cuffed!
Marshal Matt Morgan: Takes guts not to. Be too easy on ya. You'd die too quick. I know an old man who'd like to kill you, Belden - the Indian way: slow. That's how I'm gonna do it: slow - but the white man's way. First you stand trial. That takes a fair amount of time, and you'll do a lot of sweating! Then they'll sentence ya. I never seen a man who didn't get sick to his stomach when he heard the kind of sentence you'll draw. After that you'll sit in a cell and wait, maybe for months, thinking how that rope will feel around your neck. Then they'll come around, some cold morning, just before sun-up. They'll tie your arms behind you. You'll start blubbering, kicking, yelling for help. But it won't do you any good. They'll drag you out in the yard, heave you up on that platform, fix that rope around your neck and leave you out there all alone with a big black hood over your eyes. You know the last sound you hear? Kind of a thump when they kick the trapdoor catch - and down you go. You'll hit the end of that rope like a sack of potatoes, all dead weight. It'll be white hot around your neck and your Adam's Apple will turn to mush. You'll fight for your breath, but you haven't got any breath. Your brain will begin to boil. You'll scream and holler! But nobody'll hear you. You'll hear it. But nobody else. Finally you're just swingin' there - all alone and dead.

Gun Hill Sheriff Bartlett: Far as I'm concerned, you can go out on the street and get yourself killed anytime you want to, but, you know something, 40 years from now the weeds'll grow just as pretty on my grave as they will on yours. Nobody'll even remember that I was yellow and you died like a fool. That's your long view, son. Always take the long view.
Marshal Matt Morgan: I've got two warrants, and I'm gonna serve them. I'm leavin' town with two men, and the long view is this: don't try to stop me!

Salesman in Horseshoe Saloon: You're kinda lonesome, missy.
Linda, Craig's Girl: I haven't been lonesome since I was twelve years old.

Marshal Matt Morgan: Isn't there anybody in this town that's not afraid of Craig Belden?
Steve, Horseshoe Bartender': Sure! Graveyard's full of them!

Marshal Matt Morgan: It's customary for the sheriff to cooperate - furnish deputies...
Gun Hill Sheriff Bartlett: We've got our own customaries, Mr. Morgan. Anyway, the sheriff ain't around.
Marshal Matt Morgan: When's he comin' back?
Gun Hill Sheriff Bartlett: He ain't comin' back.
Marshal Matt Morgan: [realizing he's being stonewalled, he puts his hands on his hips and smiles ironically] What are you? Deputy?
Gun Hill Sheriff Bartlett: Don't matter much what you call me.
[he takes a badge out of his pocket and throws it on the desk]
Marshal Matt Morgan: [looking at the badge] I'm callin' you yellow!

Craig Belden: Suppose I could locate them for you?
Marshal Matt Morgan: I'd take them both back to Pawley. They'll stand trial for rape and murder.

Craig Belden: What about Petey? You ain't getting out of this alive. Now you know that. That boy is going to be an orphan. You thought about that?
Marshal Matt Morgan: You've already got me dead. How'd I die? The only way I could die today is for you to kill me and that's a problem... Your problem.