Barquero1970

Anna:
Back east I read books about men taming the wilderness. I dreamed about those men. They weren't like you. They weren't like you, they were statues that people could look up to. The only resemblance you bear to a statue is pigeon droppings.

Travis:
There may be hope for you yet.

Anna:
No, Travis, you're the one there's no hope for. After you're dead, me and my kind will still be here, and everything will be ours. You're like those prehistoric beasts that become extinct. Oh, they'll still write nice stories about your kind, you'll be a hero and all that. But most of all you'll be dead.