Panamint's Bad Man

Mrs. Henry Gibson, The Marshal's Widow:
I hope your scheme works.

Larry Kimball, alias John Smith:
Well, if it doesn't, you can ship my remains back to Colonel Winston with a lily in my hand.

Craven:
Whoever he is, he's hornin' in on our territory!

King Gorman:
Our territory?

Craven:
All right - your territory.

Craven:
Go buy yourself a drink, Spaghetti.

Enrico Nicola:
The name, she is not Spaghetti. She is Nicola. Nicola! [to Joan] We sing him again.

Craven:
We don't want any music now. I want to have a talk with Miss DeLysa.

Enrico Nicola:
But this is an insult!

Craven:
All right then - run along before I insult you again.

[Black Jack rescues Larry after shooting three outlaws and scaring off a fourth]

Larry Kimball, alias John Smith:
Good work, pardner!

Harold 'Black Jack' Deavers:
Good work? Three out of four? I must be goin' blind.

[last lines]

[looking at his new Deputy Marshal badge]

Harold 'Black Jack' Deavers:
Aw, how am I ever goin' to live this down.