C'era una volta il West

Morton:
Not bad. Congratulations. Tell me, was it necessary that you kill all of them? I only told you to scare them.

Frank:
People scare better when they're dying.

Harmonica:
Your friends have a high mortality rate Frank. First three, then two.

Frank:
So, you're the one who makes appointments.

Harmonica:
And you're the one who doesn't keep them.

Frank:
How can you trust a man who wears both a belt and suspenders? The man can't even trust his own pants.

Harmonica:
The reward for this man is 5000 dollars, is that right?

Cheyenne:
Judas was content for 4970 dollars less.

Harmonica:
There were no dollars in them days.

Cheyenne:
But sons of b*tches... yeah.

Harmonica:
And Frank?

Snaky:
Frank sent us.

Harmonica:
Did you bring a horse for me?

Snaky:
Well... looks like we're...

Snaky:
...looks like we're shy one horse.

Harmonica:
You brought two too many.

Cheyenne:
Do you know anything about a guy going around playing the harmonica? He's someone you'd remember. Instead of talking, he plays. And when he better play, he talks.

Cheyenne:
Harmonica, a town built around a railroad.

Cheyenne:
You could make a fortune. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Hey, more than that. Thousands of thousands.

Harmonica:
They call them "millions."

Cheyenne:
"Millions." Hmm.

Harmonica:
I saw three of these dusters a short time ago, they were waiting for a train. Inside the dusters, there were three men.

Cheyenne:
So?

Harmonica:
Inside the men, there were three bullets.

Cheyenne:
That's a crazy story, Harmonica, for two reasons. One, nobody around these part's got the guts to wear those dusters except Cheyenne's men. Two, Cheyenne's men don't get killed.

Harmonica:
Well, you know music, and you can count - all the way up to two.

Cheyenne:
All the way up to six if I have to...

Cheyenne:
And maybe faster than you.

Cheyenne:
You know, Jill, you remind me of my mother. She was the biggest whore in Alameda and the finest woman that ever lived. Whoever my father was, for an hour or for a month - he must have been a happy man.

Jill:
What's he waiting for out there? What's he doing?

Cheyenne:
He's whittlin' on a piece of wood. I've got a feeling when he stops whittlin'... Somethin's gonna happen.

Frank:
Keep your lovin' brother happy.

Jill:
But... but those were his men.

Harmonica:
Yeah.

Jill:
And they tried to kill him.

Harmonica:
They must've found someone who pays better.

Jill:
And you... You saved his life!

Harmonica:
I didn't let them kill him, and that's not the same thing.

Cheyenne:
Yeah, go on. Play, Harmonica. Play, so you can't bullshit.

Harmonica:
You know, Wobbles... I'm kinda mad at you.

Cheyenne's Lieutenant:
Cheyenne. We thought we'd never make it.

Cheyenne:
It's all right. You're right on time... to bury my escort.

Cheyenne:
They wanna hang me. The big, black crows. Idiots. What the hell? I'll kill anything. Never a kid. Be like killin' a priest. Catholic priest, that is.

Morton:
There are many things you'll never understand.

Morton:
This is one of them. You see, Frank, there are many kinds of weapons. And the only one that can stop that is this.

Morton:
Now, shall we get back to our little problem?

Frank:
My weapons might look simple to you, Mr. Morton, but they can still shoot holes big enough for our little problems.

Cheyenne:
Hey, Harmonica. When they do you in, pray it's somebody who knows where to shoot.

Frank:
Now that you've called me by name?

Morton:
How does it feel sitting behind that desk, Frank?

Frank:
Almost like holding a gun... only much more powerful.

Frank:
What do you want? Who are you?

Harmonica:
Dave Jenkins.

Frank:
Dave Jenkins is dead a long time ago.

Harmonica:
Calder Benson.

Frank:
What's your name? Benson's dead, too.

Harmonica:
You should know, Frank, better than anyone. You killed them.

Frank:
You've made a big mistake, Morton. When you're not on that train, you look like a turtle out of its shell. Just funny. Poor cripple talking big so nobody'll know how scared you are.

Frank:
Who are you?

Harmonica:
Jim Cooper, Chuck Youngblood.

Frank:
More dead men.

Harmonica:
They were all alive until they met you, Frank.

Frank:
Morton once told me I could never be like him. Now I understand why. Wouldn't have bothered him, knowing you were around somewhere alive.

Harmonica:
So, you found out you're not a businessman after all.

Frank:
Just a man.

Harmonica:
An ancient race. Other Mortons will be along, and they'll kill it off.

Frank:
The future don't matter to us. Nothing matters now - not the land, not the money, not the woman. I came here to see you. 'Cause I know that now, you'll tell me what you're after.

Harmonica:
...Only at the point of dyin'.

Cheyenne:
You don't understand, Jill. People like that have something inside... something to do with death.

Morton:
Is that sufficient to make you feel stronger?

Frank:
I could squash you like a wormy apple!

Morton:
Sure. But you won't do it... because it's... not to your advantage...

Frank:
Hmm. Who knows how far you'd have gone with two good legs, huh?

Cheyenne:
You deserve better.

Jill:
The last man who told me that... is buried out there.